


Kurt and Blaine Wake Up Married

by Seeroftodayandtomorrow



Category: Glee
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Dysfunctional Relationship, M/M, asshole! Sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 41,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6024022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeroftodayandtomorrow/pseuds/Seeroftodayandtomorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drunk marriage in Vegas, a divorce temporarily out of the question and his new husband someone he's been a fan of forever: Blaine Anderson's week just got a lot more exciting. If only he wasn't still so hung up on his ex...</p><p>Inspired by the 'Wake up married' -series by Leta Blake and Alice Griffiths</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! With 'Endland' coming to an end (see what I did there?), I thought I'd start posting a new story for the GleeBlast 2016. This one's based on the idea that Blaine wants to "make art and help people", and also on the idea that it's a lot easier to get married in Las Vegas than it actually is. Please ignore any inaccuracies for the sake of the story!  
> Short first chapter, but I have more if you want. Let me know!

Blaine opens one eye. It's a bad idea. He closes it again.

About an hour later, he tries again. One eye first, then, cautiously, the second. The light still hurts, and he contemplates just going to sleep again, but now he kind of wants to know where he is. He's in an unfamiliar room, but he remembers checking into a hotel yesterday, so that's okay. The curtains are drawn, but there is enough light hurting his eyes and his head that he knows it's at least midday, maybe later. The carpet is gray, the curtains have a drab floral pattern that matches that of the bedspread that is lying in a corner.

He's lying in a bed, which is good. Everything hurts, his head most of all. He guesses that he got really spectacularly drunk last night. Which isn't something he does, and it's certainly not what he came to Vegas for. He came here for...for...

He shifts on the bed, and winces. The thing that hurts most, apart from his head, is his ass. Which is weird.

There is an arm stretched across him, which at least accounts for the pressure on his chest. The arm is pale and slightly hairy. His chest is naked.

Crap.

He pokes the arm until its owner grunts and moves. Without looking at him, Blaine asks,

“Did I cheat on my boyfriend with you?”

“No.”

Oh. That's good then. He closes his eyes again until he notices that something doesn't add up. He shifts again just to test it, and regrets it the moment the pain flares up again.

“Um -”

The voice sighs and says, “Your boyfriend dumped you over the phone last night. Which is the reason for the probably magnificent hangover you are having right now.”

Right. He knows that. The pressure on his chest isn't just the stranger's arm that is still draped over him, it's also the fact that his heart is broken. Again. It's a wonder he isn't used to it yet.

The arm moves. The hand has long fingers with well-groomed nails. On one of the fingers sits a plain, probably white gold ring. Blaine stares at the ring for a long time until he realizes what it means.

“You cheated,” he says accusingly, careful not to raise his voice. His head still hurts.

“I didn't,” the voice says. “I'm single on principle. I have no time for dating.”

“You're wearing a wedding ring,” Blaine points out. Maybe he is wearing one to discourage people from hitting on him, if he doesn't like dating. Blaine is a little proud of his reasoning.

The arm disappears from his chest, presumably because the owner looks at the ring.

“Um,” he says.

The mattress moves, and Blaine feels slightly nauseous. Only slightly, though. He is proud of that, too.

The stranger rises, and now Blaine just has to look. He catches a short glimpse on his face, which looks tired and slightly disgruntled, but somehow familiar. At least he hasn't forgotten everything. He shifts again, wishing he'd remember that. It seems such a waste to hook up with a stranger and then not even remember the sex. Although...maybe it doesn't feel so much like cheating because he doesn't remember it.

Then he gets distracted by said stranger's body. Which is...nice. Pale and freckled, muscular but slim. Long legs, a....now he bends over to retrieve a piece of clothing from the floor, and that is a really, really nice ass.

The man puts on a pair of briefs, then puts a hand on his ass and grimaces. “What did we _do_ last night?”

“You too? Me too,” Blaine says. He still doesn't feel up to moving, or he'd go look into the trash can to count condoms. If they used condoms. God, he hopes they used condoms.

The stranger vanishes into the bathroom, but returns in a moment with a glass of water and two aspirin, which he hands Blaine.

“Thanks,” Blaine says gratefully. As he takes the glass and the pills, he notices a ring gleaming on his own finger. It's plain and white gold. He doesn't own a ring like that.

“Could you maybe call room service for coffee?” the stranger asks. “I'm going to take a shower, and then...we should talk. And I really think we need coffee for that.”

Blaine doesn't want to talk. He wants to sleep another seventeen hours and then go back home, grovel to Sebastian to take him back and forget this ever happened. But there's the fact that the stranger has a ring on his finger that matches the ring on his own, and while the implications are too weird to fathom right now - yes, they should talk.

So he calls for coffee, a lot of coffee, and then slowly moves out of bed, picks up his clothes from all over the room and gets dressed. He feels gross and would like a shower, but he isn't sure he won't barf or pass out if he tries to stand for more than a minute. In addition to that, the shower is occupied, and he doesn't feel intimate enough with the man in it to just join him, no matter what they did last night. After all, he doesn't even know his name.

 

“Kurt Hummel,” he says when the man returns from the shower, in very stylish if slightly disheveled clothes (the top button of his shirt is missing. God, he really wishes he would remember), carefully styled hair and in full front view. There is no doubt, he recognizes him at once.

“You're Kurt Hummel,” he says again.

“You remember?” Kurt asks. “Because I'm sure you called my name at various points last night...”

“No,” Blaine says, blushing. “I mean, probably. But...you're Kurt Hummel. I saw you three times in your last play. I couldn't get tickets for last night's show, but - you're one of the reasons I came here for.”

“You're a fan?” Kurt says, smiling, flattered.

“I slept with Kurt Hummel,” Blaine says. He wants to tell Sebastian, who always makes fun of him for what he calls his “crush” on the famous actor. But he can't. It's cheating, it's like cheating even if they're not together right now, but they're always not together at some point, that doesn't mean he can just sleep around like it's nothing.

“That you did,” Kurt agrees. He answers the door, tips the waiter and takes the coffee, then hands one to Blaine. Hesitantly, he sits on his side of the bed again, leaning against the headboard, his long legs stretched out before him. Quietly, he says,

“It also seems you married Kurt Hummel.”

Slowly, Blaine nods. He wants to deny it, but there's the matching rings, and also....there's a small stack of papers on his nightstand, a little crumpled and at one place with a stain of....something. But on the top, it says “Marriage Certificate”, and on the bottom, there are both their signatures. He hands the papers over to Kurt, who studies them and sighs.

“Do you remember anything?” he asks, and Blaine reluctantly nods. A few memories have come up since he's awake, none of them good, and unfortunately still nothing about the sex.

“I came to talk to you after the show, about getting involved in the foundation,” he says, glancing at Kurt, who nods. “You weren't...very nice to me in the beginning, but then you seemed interested, and we talked for a while at the bar. Then I got a phone call from Sebastian, calling me to break up with me and to tell me he was already living with the guy he replaced me with.”

He stifles a sob, and sees from the corner of his eye how Kurt shakes his head at him. That brings up another memory, one that actually makes him smile.

“You called him a lot of...choice words, and told me not to cry, and proceeded to get drunk with me. And then, somehow, at some point, it seemed like a really good idea to take you upstairs. There's not much after that, unfortunately.”

“We had sex,” Kurt says, stating the obvious. “There are...four used condoms in the trash here, and one in the bathroom. I don't know how we even did that.”

“And I can't remember any of it,” Blaine says. “You?”

Kurt shakes his head. “It must have been really good if we wanted to do it that often, though.”

They are silent. It is awkward, but good for his head. He fiddles with his cup while Kurt tears one of the paper napkins that came with the coffee in tiny pieces.

Blaine remembers something. He remembers Sebastian cheating on him, and afterwards, to make up for it and to show that despite everything he gets on the side, he's really with Blaine, proposing marriage. He remembers saying no, which made Sebastian sulk for days and now say that he's dodged a bullet whenever he's pissed with Blaine. He remembers why he said no.

“Um,” he says. “I can't get divorced.”


	2. Chapter 2

They're silent again. Blaine has kind of expected a stronger reaction to his statement, but Kurt just sits there and pushes the fragments of the paper napkin into orderly little piles. Then he speaks without looking at him.

“If you're trying to tell me you're Christian and can't get divorced because of the sanctity of marriage or something, I should probably enlighten you that in case you haven't noticed, you're married to a man, and I'm pretty sure most religious people would agree you shouldn't do that.”

“No. Yes, I mean.” Blaine drags a hand through his hair and winces as it comes back with the sticky residue of yesterday's gel. “But, no. I'm gay and out and proud and everything, and considering how sore I am, there's little doubt I had sex with a man last night. But -” He sighs. “It's a long story.”

“If I'm leaving here, I'm going home and tell my lawyer to prepare the divorce papers. So if you don't want me to do that, you should start entertaining me.”

Blaine sighs and sits cross-legged on the bed. “It's a very weird story, just so you're warned. But I swear it's true. It's also an amount of crazy I'd normally subject a husband to after...minimal five years of marriage. So.”

He sighs again, looks at Kurt. Kurt looks back with a politely waiting expression and some amusement. “My great-grandfather had a small legal business and a larger illegal one. I'm not sure what he did, but he made a lot of money, and apparently, he had business with, um...the Sicilian mafia. And he...apparently, he um, he liked that concept of...famiglia. You know. Leaving a legacy, and making sure his descendants would do what he wanted even after his death. I'm not sure. He even...he was a John, but he made everyone call him Gianni, and all of his children have Italian names.”

He ignores Kurt's soft snort and scratches his belly. “I'll have to take a shower soon,” he states. “I'm gross.”

“Chest hair and dried cum is never a good combination,” Kurt says. “Finish your tale, and then you can go shower. I'll even come with you and blow you.”

“No!” Blaine says. “We can't do that!”

“Why ever not?” Kurt asks with a frown. “We already did it, and it seems to have been good. Why can't we go for round...five, six? I've forgotten.”

He flops down on the bed, propped up by his elbows, and Blaine's gaze automatically goes to his ass. Which is, as stated before, very nice. He almost relents. But, no. He can't be that person. He's not that person.

“Because -” he starts, but Kurt interrupts.

“Wait! Sorry. But first things first. Finish your story. I admit I keep getting distracted by your bed head and trying to remember what your dick looks like, but I really want to know why we can't get a divorce. You seem really nice, but I'd still rather not be married to you, you know.”

“Yeah, me too,” Blaine mumbles. “My crush on you isn't that big, thanks.”

“You have a crush on me?” Kurt says, sounding equally scandalized and delighted.

“Anyway,” Blaine deflects quickly, shaking his head. “John – Gianni – was a devout Catholic and incredibly happily married. So, in his will, he decreed that his descendants would have to marry for love, and they weren't allowed to ever get divorced. I don't doubt he's rotating in his grave right now, but his will doesn't say anything about gay marriage; I guess he just didn't think of it. Anyway, if any of his descendants marry for another reason, or separate, they forfeit their part of the inheritance. Which has grown considerably over the years.”

Kurt sits up. “So I have to stay married to you so you can continue being a spoiled little rich boy? I don't think so.”

He sits on the edge of the bed and starts putting on his shoes. Blaine jumps up and runs around to his side of the bed.

“No, please!” he says. “Please don't do this.”

But Kurt's already at the door. “Perhaps you can't get divorced, but I can,” he says. “And I will.”

“Please!” Blaine says again. “It's all in the foundation. Everyone would lose so much, so many people would lose their jobs...”

“The foundation,” Kurt repeats, his hand on the doorknob, without turning around. “You told me about it yesterday. The -”

“The Warbler Foundation. You seemed interested. Please, listen to me. Please. Only for a minute, you can always leave later if I can't convince you.”

“You won't,” Kurt says, but he turns around and sits down on the single chair in front of the small desk. Blaine drags his hands through his hair and sits down. He is silent for a moment, starts talking only when Kurt looks at him impatiently.

“They cut down all of the arts programs where I live. And I was....I used to be in a pretty bad place in high school, and choir was what helped me make it through. And I thought, now there's nothing that would help a kid like me, that would give him a purpose, and help him make friends, and give him a way to escape...and so I took all of that money and put it in the foundation. We offer dancing and singing and acting lessons, we have a show choir and we put on plays. Those who can pay, do, but those who can't get it for free if they have the talent. And I...sometimes I ask professional performers to come in and tutor or do a workshop or talk about how they made it. You remember me asking you yesterday, you seemed interested in helping us. But now...”

He takes a deep breath and finally looks at Kurt. “If you...do this, I lose everything. The foundation is my whole life, and if I lose the money, there's no way to fund it. The kids and I, and all the people who work there, we'd lose so much.”

Kurt's face is calm, and he doesn't say anything. So Blaine tries again.

“Please,” he says. “You must have been a theater kid once. Did you never feel like your drama club or choir or whatever was the only thing that kept you...sane?”

“Alive,” Kurt says. “I'm pretty sure my glee club was the only thing that kept me alive, sometimes.”

Blaine holds his breath.

“If we...if we did this,” Kurt says. “It would be temporary, right?”

“Yes,“Blaine says. “I'm sure my nonna – don't laugh, she isn't Italian either, but the name just stuck. I'm sure she'll figure something out. She knows these things.”

Kurt's hands open and close. There's nothing left of the paper napkin, or Blaine is sure he'd be picking at it again.

Suddenly, Kurt's face brightens. “Annulment! That would work, wouldn't it? It'd be like we never married at all, right?”

“It...should? I don't know? Until now, I've never had much reason to think about that, I'll have to call my lawyer and ask.”

He starts looking for his phone, it's not in his pocket, and when he finally finds it on the floor under the bed, it's nearly dead. He puts it on charger to make his call, and before he dials, he asks,

“On...on what grounds would we get an annulment?”

“We never consummated the marriage, of course. I'm sure we had all this probably amazing sex before we got married.”

Blaine nods. He has a hole in his left sock, and it's driving him crazy. “Right. I'll put him on speaker, okay? So I don't have to repeat everything he says.”

It takes a while to actually reach Wes, and while he's asking secretary after secretary, he fiddles with the hole in his sock until Kurt loses patience and just pulls both of them off his feet and throws them in the trash right on top of the condoms. Blaine stares at him indignantly, but has no time to complain as he finally gets Wes on the phone.

They make small talk for a while, but Blaine sees Kurt tapping his foot impatiently, and he remembers that Kurt can still just leave and get a divorce. So he interrupts Wes's tale of something his baby daughter did.

“Listen, Wes, could you maybe look something up for me in Gianni's will? Yes, I know, I'm sorry, but it's kind of urgent. Look, I seem to...I accidentally got married.”

He explains the situation and then paces the room and glares at Kurt's silent laughter while Wes has a completely appropriate freakout, the kind he somehow wishes he'd had before. Now it's too late, he'd feel ridiculous, but he feels he missed the chance for a good freakout.

“Okay,” Wes says after a while. “So I take it you want an annulment, seeing as you can't get divorced. I'll see what I can do. Upon what grounds do you propose?”

“We never consummated the marriage!” Kurt shouts, still shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Yes, I'm sure,” Wes says. “Only, unfortunately, that isn't a reason for an annulment, not anymore. It's a common misconception.”

Kurt's face falls, and Blaine is sure his own face looks similar. But before he can ask, Wes continues.

“There are other reasons for an annulment ab initio, though...your...husband's of age, I take it?”

Blaine nods. He's read Kurt's bio in his playbill a thousand times, he knows he's one year older than Blaine.

“Yes,” he says when he realizes Wes can't see him. He can hear the sound of paper rustling as Wes looks something up.

“Lack of consent would apply, I think, since you were drunk and not able to consent, but....unfortunately, that's nothing the will accepts.”

“What?” Kurt's unbelieving voice rings in his ears. Blaine feels only resignation.

“I'm sorry. There is a clause that allows annulment in case of coercion, but not in case of drunkenness. I'm afraid there's no way you could get an annulment and still keep your inheritance, except...”

“What?”

“Well, are you closely related, or is one of you still married to someone else?”

 

They've been brainstorming for the last half hour, trying out scenarios that they both know sound desperate and unlikely to succeed. It's surprisingly comfortable; they order food, and at one point, during an elaborate story involving Kurt being Blaine's long lost half-brother who was forced to marry him by an evil stepmother who afterwards probably plans to murder them both to inherit Blaine's fortune, they double over laughing, interrupting each other with even more outrageous reasons and outcomes.

Even though there's really not much to laugh about. He's married. His mother would be so happy, if it wasn't the wrong man he married. He'll never get Sebastian back now. If they do this – and it looks like they will, Kurt doesn't look like he's about to bolt any second now anymore, and they are nearly resigned to the fact that they can't get an annulment that'd allow Blaine to keep the foundation – if they do this, they have to act in love. It's part of the deal. Marry for love, and stay together. He'll have to look Sebastian in the eye and tell him he loves another man.

A knock on the door interrupts this train of thought and makes him hold back the tears that have threatened to rise. When Kurt opens, there's a delivery man outside, with effort carrying a huge and gorgeous flower bouquet.

“Mr and Mr Anderson-Hummel?” he asks.

“Why did we take your name first?” Kurt asks, with complete disregard of Blaine's surprise to be addressed like this, or any embarrassment that might arise from the question.

“I don't know!” he hisses back. “I can't remember!”

Then he schools his features into a polite smile as he turns towards the delivery man. “Yes?”

“These are for you.”

While Blaine tips the man and shuts the door, Kurt digs out the card that is hidden somewhere in the flowers. He reads it aloud, disbelief and sarcasm dripping from his voice.

_“With congratulations on your nuptials and the best wishes for a long and happy life together. Sincerely, the Anderson Family.”_


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine feels himself turn red. His head still hurts and might explode if he isn't careful, but really, has there ever been a family as embarrassing as his?

It takes a while until he understands that the sound he hears is Kurt laughing. He is shaking, the flowers in his hand trembling until he carefully places them on the desk before falling down on the bed.

Blaine still is mortified. “I'm so sorry,” he says.

“Oh my God,” Kurt gasps. “Should I expect a severed horse head on my pillow when I wake up tomorrow?”

Blaine lies down on the bed, face down, careful to avoid any sudden movement.

“I'm so sorry,” he repeats into the pillow. Kurt is still laughing, but puts a hand between his shoulder blades. It's comforting. Still, he feels like crying. He'll need a little bit of privacy soon. He'll be damned if he cries in front of his husband, but he hasn't even really cried over Sebastian dumping him, except if you counted drunkenly sobbing into the shoulder pads of a stranger who showed a lot more patience than his initial coldness had led Blaine to expect.

But he knows Kurt doesn't think well of Sebastian, and he's seen the looks he gives him whenever he threatens to become maudlin. He's not going to cry in front of someone who's going to despise him for it, and he knows what Kurt can do with his mouth—not like this, unfortunately, as he still can't remember, but...He remembers first going to speak to Kurt after his performance, how he had looked down on him with haughty surprise at how someone insignificant like Blaine dared talk to him. He'd...thawed later, become quite nice actually, but Blaine still isn't keen on repeating that experience.

He won't cry in front of Kurt.

He's crying.

In front of Kurt.

In fact, he's sobbing into his pillow, ugly, heaving sobs, and the hand between his shoulder blades flutters indecisively until it starts rubbing his back.

He can't seem to stop, clutches his increasingly wet pillow with clenched fists. He cries for Sebastian, who won't take him back, not when he's slept with someone else, married someone else. He cries for his mom, who will be so disappointed. He cries for Kurt, who hasn't done anything to deserve this. He cries for himself.

It's his fault, all of it. When his head starts to clear, he starts thinking of options again, how he can get Kurt out of all of this. But there's no way, not now: they stay married, or he'll lose the Foundation.

He can't lose the Foundation. It's a refuge, not only for the theater kids who have nowhere else to go, not only for the unemployed performers he pays to teach, but for himself, too. The Foundation gives him a place, something to do, somewhere to be, a purpose and the feeling of being useful. It's everything he loves in one building, everything he's always wanted to do and more.

He can't lose it.

Finally, he sits up. Kurt hands him a tissue, and with trembling fingers he takes it and wipes tears and snot off his face.

“Sorry,” he says, again.

“No worries,” Kurt says. “I get that the situation isn't really...comfortable for you.”

“Nor is it for you,” Blaine points out. And there isn't even anything he's getting out of it.

“No, but,” Kurt hesitates. “I'm don't have an engagement at the moment. I don't have a boyfriend, or real commitments. I can easily leave home for a few weeks. It looks like I could be useful at your Foundation. And my dad will be happy.”

“Your dad will be happy you married a stranger?”

“Oh, I'll get an earful for that, I have no doubt. But -” Kurt sighs and moves on the bed, getting comfortable. “He told me once to not sleep around like I didn't matter, because I did matter. And that's a nice thought, but...I don't really sleep around. I have no time to look around for people to hook up with, so I have a...kind of arrangement with a few colleagues. I concentrate on my work, and I call one of them to let off some steam every now and then. It's not a bad thing, it suits me, but it's not what he wants for me.”

He shrugs. “Of course it'll all go up in flames when we get divorced, but at least he'll think I've been in love once.”

“You've never been in love?” Blaine has never not been in love, he's been in love before he knew what it meant. He isn't sure, though, if he pities Kurt or envies him.

“Nothing that went beyond a crush, I don't think. I always wanted to, but....there was no one at home, and then in New York, I was always working, and it turned out that...romance wasn't what most people were looking for.”

He sits up a little, looks at Blaine, scowls. “Don't look at me like that. I'm not unhappy. Love is...messy, and I have no time for messes.”

“There you are definitely right.”

They are silent for a bit. Kurt fiddles with the sheets on his side of the bed, creasing and then smoothing them again. Finally, he asks,

“The note. From...your family. What does it mean for us?”

“It's not my family. We may share a name, but I have probably never exchanged a word with these people in my life. And...I don't know. They see us, I guess. Watch us. I think, for now, it means that you shouldn't go back to your own room tonight, but sleep here. Since we're, you know, in love.”

Kurt shrugs. “Well, I only had the room until today anyway, so...” He falls back down on the bed, throws one arm over his eyes.

The actor's coming through. It makes Blaine smile.

“It's going to be stressful, isn't it,” Kurt says. “Keeping up appearances. Acting like we're in love all the time. Lying to everyone.”

“It's not going to be easy,” Blaine agrees.

“Wait, couldn't we go away?” Kurt asks. “Like, on a honeymoon?”

“Later, maybe,” Blaine says. “I can't stay away for long with no notice. And we want to talk to my nonna so she can help us get divorced.”

“Right,” Kurt says, and they lie in silence for a while. The drab hotel room seems like a sanctuary. Time has no meaning, the world stays away. Blaine wishes he could just stay here and watch the dust dance in the light from the window. But tomorrow, they have to go home and face the music. That reminds him-

“My mom's going to hate you,” he says.

Kurt is silent. When he speaks, it's in clipped, short words.

“I've...been informed I'm not always easy to get along with. But your mom doesn't even know me.”

Blaine resists the urge to take his hand. “No, sorry, no—it's not you. She'd hate anyone I brought home. She just really loves Sebastian.”

He nearly manages to say the name without his voice shaking.

Kurt nods, then asks, “Why?”

“Why does my mom love Sebastian?”

“Yes. I mean, no offense, but...” He shrugs.

Blaine nearly laughs. Kurt really hasn't had the best first impression of Sebastian, has he? Not that it matters. If any two people were predestined to hate each other, it'd be these two.

“Um, I guess...I don't know, really?” he says. “I guess it's just that we've been together forever, and she's never seen me with anyone else, and I guess she thinks he's a good influence on me. I'm not sure why. Also, he can be really charming if he wants to, so...”

“How long have you been together?”

It's hard to say, really. Blaine takes a moment to think. “Ten years, on and off, I think. I don't know how long it'd be if you didn't count the 'off'-times.”

“Still, that's a long time,” Kurt says. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not -” Blaine almost says, It's not so bad, out of habit. But then he remembers himself, a sobbing, blubbering picture of misery just minutes ago. Kurt would know he's lying.

“I'm kind of used to it,” he says instead. He doesn't say that that doesn't make it better. “On and off, remember? It's not the first time he dumped me.”

There's the lump in his throat again.

“Can we...change the subject?” he asks, indicating his still-wet pillow.

Kurt nods. “So what do we do now?” he asks.

Relieved, Blaine tosses the pillow into the corner of the room where the bedspread is lying, realizing too late that now, he has nothing to occupy his hands. He sits on them and blushes as he realizes that the bedspread is probably lying there because one of them tore it off the bed last night and threw it there. He doesn't like to be reminded of what they did last night. After all, it's what got them into this mess in the first place. And it kind of makes him want to do it again, if only to finally remember it. And he can't do that.

“Well,” he says when he notices Kurt looking at him. “We can stay here until tomorrow and hide. Then, unfortunately, we'll have to go home and proudly show off our new husbands.” He grimaces. “We can go visit your dad first, if you want to. But after, we should make arrangements to get your things sent to my place, and then get to work on getting a divorce.”

“Your place?” Kurt asks. “You don't—didn't live with Sebastian?”

Kurt makes a face when he says the name. Blaine doesn't think it's intentional, or that Kurt even knows he does it. He doesn't like it when people don't like Sebastian, but in this case...he knows Kurt doesn't like Sebastian because of how he treated Blaine. And that's kind of nice.

“I did,” he says. “But I kept my own place. We broke up so often, and I didn't want to go back to my mom every time.”

“You know that's seriously fucked up, don't you?” Kurt says. Then he slaps Blaine's thigh and grins when he yelps.

“Up. Go shower,” he says. “We're going out to dinner.”

“We are?” Blaine says.

Kurt nods. “I refuse to hide. Let's go out and hold hands and stare deep into each other's eyes and convince the Anderson spies we're completely crazy about each other.”

“O-okay,” Blaine says, slowly sits up and swings his legs form the bed. “Are you sure?”

Kurt throws his pillow at him. “Go. Unless you want me to come with you after all?”

He licks his lips in an exaggerated manner that makes Blaine let out an undignified giggle.

He walks backwards, holding out his hands to ward off evil.

“Stay away from me, tempter!” he cries and closes the bathroom door to Kurt's laughter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I just want to tell you how much I appreciate the response this story gets. I'm bad with answering comments, but I see all of them and they make my day, and I love you.

Holding Kurt's hand feels weird. His hand is bigger than Sebastian's, his fingers longer. Not that he's held hands with Sebastian all that often. Even after all this time, Sebastian still has difficulties letting the world—or Blaine, for that matter—know that he might care for Blaine. Hand holding is a romantic gesture he only agrees to in order to drag Blaine somewhere, or, like the marriage proposal, going on dates, or letting Blaine top, to make up for something.

So maybe it's not weird to hold Kurt's hand, maybe it's weird to hold anyone's hand at all.

Nice, though. Kurt leads them through the streets, never letting go of Blaine's hand, avoiding passers-by or lamp posts together, like he's letting everyone know they belong together, that nothing will come between them.

It feels nice, even though it's all for show.

Their dinner is nice, too. They don't do anything overly romantic, there's no sighs or gazing into each others' eyes for the benefit of their invisible audience. Except once.

“Do people even do that?” Kurt asks. “Apart from movies? I mean...”

He puts down his cutlery, takes a sip form his drink, and then takes Blaine's hand over the table and stares into Blaine's eyes. Blaine stares back, as there's not much else he can do, and within seconds, they both start to laugh.

“See, that's what I mean. I don't think it works the way they show in the movies.”

It's a surprisingly nice evening, considering that not too long ago, Blaine was a blubbering mess, not to mention the fact that he's still married to...well, Kurt. Not quite a stranger, not quite a friend, certainly not a lover. The man behind the Broadway star he's so long dreamed of meeting.

But it's nice not to be cooped up in this hotel room anymore, feeling like the drab little room is the only safe place in the world. This, this simple dinner, makes him think they can maybe do this, though he doesn't delude himself that it won't get harder. They haven't met Kurt's dad yet. Or Blaine's friends. Or -he gulps—his mom, or Sebastian and his new squeeze, all of whom they somehow have to convince they met and instantly fell in love and for some reason decided to marry. He doesn't know how they will do that. It certainly isn't a story that would convince him.

 

Back in the hotel room, he looks around helplessly. He had imagined he'd sleep on the couch, since Kurt is doing so much for him and it seems kind of unfair to make him share a bed with someone who won't even put out. Sebastian certainly would complain about it.

The problem is, there isn't a couch. There's only the bed, two nightstands, and a small desk with a single chair. Nothing that would even remotely work as a place to sleep. Well, except the bed, of course, but that's Kurt's.

He picks up the bedspread that's still lying in the corner since they left the 'Do not disturb' sign hanging at the door the whole day. He fiddles with it, with unclear thoughts about somehow folding it into a pallet or something, when Kurt seems to pick up at what he's doing.

“Oh no,” he says. “Certainly not. We won't sacrifice your back for that farce, or my peace of mind for that matter, for I doubt I'd be able to sleep with you tossing and turning on the floor. We are two grown men. We can share the bed.”

“But....I won't have sex with you,” Blaine warns.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Yes, I gathered that much. Not that I understand why, mind you, but I think I'll be able to restrain myself. Now can we please go to sleep?”

Blaine shrugs, puts down the bedspread, and goes brush his teeth. He doesn't understand Kurt, at all. But he's certainly glad he gets to sleep in a bed tonight.

 

Early the next morning, while Kurt is still slumbering peacefully beside him, quietly sniffling into his pillow (it's kind of adorable, really, and Blaine will need to hold it against Kurt one day when he tries to get all cold and aloof on him again), Blaine writes an email to his mother. He tells her in very gentle words how Sebastian had dumped him in favor of—he still doesn't know whom. His mom will, probably. It's a small community, and she's close to Sebastian; chances are he's told her he's dumping Blaine before he actually told him.

He uses even gentler words to tell her of his marriage, though he doesn't actually think the words will comfort her. But he tries, asks her to be polite to his husband, to give him a chance before she rejects him outright for the crime of not being Sebastian.

He doesn't have much hope. His mother is a very bitter woman, hurt by love in the worst of ways, and it has taken her a long time to accept that Blaine has fallen for Sebastian so quickly and so early. When she finally did, though, she had welcomed Sebastian wholeheartedly, to the point that Blaine sometimes thinks Sebastian is more her son than he is. She's quick to make it Blaine's fault every time they break up, which is....

Kurt wakes up. He stirs, turns on his back, and Blaine can't but stare at the very obvious erection that is tenting his pants. Kurt sees him stare and unabashedly scratches his balls, then sits up.

“I'm going to shower,“ he grumbles, and leaves for the bathroom.

Blaine grins. Obviously not a morning person.

He's kind of excited to introduce Kurt to his mother. And terrified. They will clash, there's no doubt about that, but Kurt does icy politeness just as well as his mom does. It'd be an interesting evening if he could just sit there and enjoy the performance like an uninvolved observer. Unfortunately, he is anything but. He loves his mother very much, and Kurt...well, a lot of times he's still a little afraid of him. But the other times, he actually likes him. He doesn't presume to know him, but he thinks there's a big heart under that prickly exterior.

He clicks 'send' and hopes he doesn't get an answer. As for the meeting...he'll go with 'terrified' for the moment.

 

“Your place or mine?” Kurt asks on the plane.

Blaine grins, then thinks. His is nearer, but they'll have to go there anyway, and...if he's honest, he's not opposed to postponing the inevitable. Though meeting Kurt's dad is terrifying, too.

“Yours, I think. You said your dad might like me, or, well, that you got married. My family will be more difficult, for which I want to apologize in advance. So, we can practice on yours. Did—did you already tell him?”

“My dad? Of course. Did you imagine I'd just say, Hey dad, this is Blaine, my husband? I don't want him to have another heart attack. I called him this morning when you were in the shower.”

“And?”

“Let's just say he was...surprised, and keep it at that. But you don't have to be scared. He's a pretty laid back guy, and you're you, so that helps.”

Kurt settles deeper into his seat and closes his eyes, but Blaine isn't about to let this go.

“What do you mean, I'm me?”

Kurt grins with closed eyes. “You're a fan of me, right?”

Blaine grunts, embarrassed. Kurt's dad will think he's a stalker or something, with an altar under a life size poster of Kurt or something like that.

“Well, my dad is a fan of you.”

He blinks. “But I'm not famous or anything.”

“Well, not you, directly, but the Warbler Foundation.”

Kurt opens his eyes, looks at him, then looks away just as quickly.

“My dad remembers the sad, lonely boy I was in high school, probably better than I do. And he remembers how the arts helped me. He really approves of what you are doing, I remember him reading me the newspaper article over the phone. He called the foundation the best thing to come out of Westerville since Andy Katzenmoyer. That's an ice hockey player or something.”

“Football, Ohio State,” Blaine corrects absently. He's never thought about how his work might affect people who are not in his immediate surroundings. He knows he's doing good, but....He's blushing. He won't be able to stop blushing in front of Kurt's dad, knowing what he knows now.

Then he remembers something. “ _Hummel Tires and Lube_? Is that your dad? They always buy advertising space in our playbills, and always donating extra, too. I've always wanted to meet the person behind that.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Great. I can see you two gushing over each other, ignoring me completely.”

He turns towards the wall and pulls the blinds over the tiny airplane window, effectively turning his back on Blaine and the conversation.

Blaine spends the rest of the flight anxious about Kurt being angry with him, but when he wakes him with a tentative hand on his shoulder when they're about to land, there's no trace of it.

They reclaim their bags and go through customs, and in line for the rental car they need to go to Lima, Kurt takes his hand, stretches out their arms and looks at their hands and the rings on them.

“They're okay,” he approves finally. “Simple, but stylish. They might even be real gold, or if not, it's not immediately visible. We did good.”

At Blaine's uncomprehending look, he shrugs. “I can't walk around with some trashy piece of fake jewelry, Blaine. People know me. There might be photos. I have a reputation to uphold.”

That's something Blaine has...chosen to ignore up till now. He doesn't know how famous Kurt is. He knows him because he loves Broadway and is connected to the business, however loosely. and because Kurt looks and sounds like an angel and the world becomes a better place when he sings and...

He's blushing again. Maybe the creepy stalker version of himself he envisioned earlier isn't as unlikely as he thought. Kurt can never know about this.

“Am I going to be hated on by fans on the internet who want you for themselves? Are there going to be paparazzi in front of your dad's house?” he asks instead, covering up his embarrassment.

Kurt laughs and squeezes his hand once before releasing it. “No. I'm not that kind of famous, thankfully.”

Blaine is thankful, too.

 

The two-hour drive to Lima is over much too soon. Blaine is awfully nervous; the words Kurt kept saying to him most during the trip were,

“Stop fidgeting, Blaine, you're driving me insane!”

But he can't stop. It's nice Kurt's dad approves of what he's doing with the foundation, but will it make up for drunkenly marrying his son? Also, approval usually comes with high expectations, and what if Blaine disappoints? And Kurt has mentioned a stepmother, bur hasn't said anything about her.

“What if they hate me?” he whispers as they pass the town sign of Lima.

Kurt keeps his eyes on the road. “Then I guess you'll have to live with it, just as I have to live with your mom hating me.”

Okay, he deserved that. It doesn't make the ball of anxiety in his stomach any smaller. It's weird, he's used to talking to people, making them like him, raising funds for the foundation. He's never been as nervous as now he's about to meet his in-laws.

He gulps as they pull into the driveway of the house.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine stands awkwardly to the side as Kurt is pulled into a long, close hug by a bald man in a plaid shirt who looks like he could be anyone's dad but Kurt's. Before they part, a pretty woman with short hair pushes Mr Hummel aside and hugs Kurt herself and then kisses his forehead with tears in her eyes.

Kurt is very much loved. Blaine wonders if he knows it, if he appreciates it.

He also wonders how his own mother's greeting will look in comparison.

Then Kurt steps back, takes his hand, pulls him forward.

“Dad, Carole, this is Blaine, my husband,” he says with a smile that believably conveys pride and affection. At least, Blaine hopes so. Kurt is a great actor, but this is his family.

He wipes his palm on his pants before offering his hand for Mr Hummel to shake.

“It's nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Hummel.”

“Well, -” Mr Hummel starts, staring at him and not taking his hand. This is so much worse than Blaine could have imagined. He tries to summon his charm, the easy-going friendliness that allows him to talk to people everywhere and have them like him, but he is tongue-tied. And sweaty. He wants to wipe his hand again, but he hasn't given up hope yet. He leaves it stretched out, feeling like an idiot even though barely a second has passed.

“Welcome!” the woman, Carole? - says, taking his hand and smiling brightly. Blaine can see Kurt scowling at his father before he is pulled into a hug, which he returns hesitantly.

“Dad, you promised to be nice!” Kurt scolds.

“I was just messing with him,” Mr Hummel says, smiling sheepishly.

Blaine doesn't like being messed with, not when surely Mr Hummel can imagine how nervous he already is? But he likes how Kurt's come to his defense, and his good manners take over: Mr Hummel will get one more chance. Let's see how he is when he's not 'messing with somebody'.

The decision helps, and he finds his words.

“I know that you have donated to the Foundation a lot of times,” he says, again stretching out his hand. “Thank you for that, sir. I'm happy to finally meet you.”

Mr Hummel looks embarrassed, but finally takes his hand in a firm grip. “You're doing good work, kid,” he says with gruff approval.

“Okay, so,” Kurt says. “Blaine, this is Carole, my lovely stepmom, and Burt, my dad, who will behave from now on.” His look implies an “or else”, that, going from Burt's expression, Kurt doesn't need to actually say out loud.

“Now, can we go inside?”

 

They end up staying late into the evening, much later than they planned, and finally Carole manages to persuade them to stay the night. It's a really nice evening once Blaine can overcome his little grudge. It doesn't take long, because Kurt is right—Burt really is a fan, and has Blaine talk animatedly about the foundation in no time.

Of course, the night has its awkward phases—what doesn't recently? Burt and Carole seem to hold out as long as they can, but at some point, they ask about the marriage. And Kurt doesn't save him, just looks at him like it's his story to tell. So Blaine stumbles and stutters his way through how they met—how he came to talk to Kurt after his show, to ask him about helping the foundation. How they got to talking. He decides to skip the breakup—going from one relationship right into the next is never good, he knows that much. He brushes over getting drunk, because there has to be some kind of excuse for getting married on the day they met. How they went up to his room at some point and...talked some more.

“Talked, mhm,” Carole says with a smirk.

Blaine blushes. This was another thing he'd hoped to skip. He doesn't dare look at Burt, or at Kurt either. Kurt is probably shaking with silent laughter. He has a rather inappropriate enjoyment of embarrassing Blaine, or seeing him embarrassed.

How at some point it had seemed like a good idea to get married.

“You must have been really drunk,” Burt says, and Blaine nods.

And then he doesn't know anymore.

Kurt decides to be helpful for once, and jumps in. He pretends he can remember and describes a simple but elegant ceremony that almost certainly didn't take place. For all Blaine knows, there has been an Elvis impersonator and dancing strippers, though Kurt said he would never take part in something so undignified, no matter how drunk.

Carole scolds them for getting married without guests. “You got to plan my wedding, Kurt, I thought I'd at least be there for yours!”

Burt looks like he's like to scold them for getting married at all, guests or no. He doesn't, though. It probably doesn't fit in with Kurt's idea of 'behaving'.

Then Kurt runs out of words, too. And Blaine realizes they didn't once talk about being in love, or tried to find an explanation for why they felt they had to get married. Drunk or not, Blaine doubts Burt's idea of happiness for his son is an impromptu marriage in Vegas to a stranger.

He takes Kurt's hand. It's the only thing that comes to mind to show the Hummels he has feelings for their son without trying to find words that will come out a hot mess anyway.

Burt clears his throat. “Well, Kurt, if it took getting drunk and married for you to finally fall in love, I'm all for it.”

He doesn't sound completely convincing, but Blaine is happy with the assumption they're in love. He'll take what he can get.

“Though I'd have thought,” Burt continues, grinning, “that your wedding would be a lavish affair with color-coordinated clothes for the guests that would have to perfectly match the flowers and the glitter you'd feed the doves.”

Blaine doesn't understand, but Carole chuckles and Kurt buries his face in his hands and mutters things that don't bode well for his father.

“He used to watch those movies, you know, where a princess has to be rescued by her one true love or something. He never could decide if he wanted to be the princess or the dashing knight that saves her, but he always insisted on an epic romance. So you can say I'm a little surprised by the way things are now.”

Blaine nods, somewhat shamed, but Kurt groans. “Why don't you go break out the baby photos, dad,” he accuses.

Burt laughs and shakes his head. “Can't shoot all of my ammunition on the first day. I'm going to bed. I trust you two can find the way to your old room, kid.”

 

The next day in the car on the way to Westerville, Blaine is quiet. His answers to Kurt's occasional questions are head movements or monosyllabic. The reason for this is, of course, that they have a lunch date with his mom, and his initial excitement at the idea has been replaced by cold horror now that it's about to become reality.

After a while, Kurt says, “Okay, this is even more annoying than the fidgeting. I know your mom won't like me. I'll still stay married to you for the time being. People have not liked me for my whole life. I'm not dependent on the goodwill of one person. Not even your mom.”

“I don't understand why you're being so nice about all of this,” Blaine says. It nearly sounds angry. He's not angry. And he doesn't want Kurt to be less nice about it. It'd just be nice to actually understand something.

Kurt shrugs, as if he doesn't know either

. “I mean,”, Blaine says, “your family's been so nice, too.”

They had been, in a bewildered, a little skeptical way, like they aren't sure what's happening, but whatever's happening, it's not Blaine's fault. Or at least not his alone.

Blaine's mom, on the other hand....

“They're nice people,” Kurt agrees.

“My mom's...” Not. But that'd be too simple. And unfair. And not completely true. “She's not a bad person, I don't want you to think that. She's just...difficult.”

Kurt nods. Blaine doesn't know what it means, but he accepts it.

 

It doesn't start bad.

They ring the doorbell. Blaine still has a key, but he doesn't like to use it. It reminds him of all the times he came home with his tail between his legs after Sebastian dumped him once again.

His mom opens the door, smiles, and kisses him on the cheek.

After that, it goes downhill.

“Mom, that's Kurt, my husband,” Blaine says. He's proud of how he manages to keep his voice firm.

“Mr Hummel,” his mom says and briefly shakes his hand.

“Actually, it's Anderson-Hummel,” Kurt says.

She makes a face like she's bitten into a lemon and steps aside to let them in.

From now on, it gets really, really bad.

They eat. It's not Italian; his mom can't abide Italian food. It's some kind of soup, and bread, it tastes good. But the atmosphere is so icy Blaine is surprised the soup doesn't get cold.

They're silent until his mom suddenly, with a forced smile, tells a story from Blaine's late teens that Blaine can't remember happening quite that way, in which Sebastian supposedly saved Blaine from a gay bashing. What she doesn't say—to be fair, she doesn't know—is that the guys never even noticed them until Sebastian hit on them so hard it was practically sexual harassment, and that he didn't save him so much as the guys just went away after Blaine apologized profusely.

After that it's story after story, always with Sebastian as the hero. They're never true. Sebastian told a few of them that way, and Blaine didn't contradict as it seemed petty then. Others, she just makes up, but Blaine gets interrupted whenever he tries to set her straight.

Kurt nods and smiles coldly and every now and then makes a sarcastic little comment that Blaine's mom ignores.

Until Blaine can't take it anymore. He interrupts her, which goes against everything he's ever been taught—someone younger interrupting someone older, a gentleman interrupting a lady—but he does it anyway.

“Stop it, mom,” he says. He can't stop his voice from shaking. It's very annoying. “I know what you're trying to do, but it won't work. Sebastian and I are over. I love Kurt, and you have to accept that. Sebastian has never been as good to me as you think. That's my fault. But I ask you to accept that Kurt is my husband, and he's really good to me.”

His mom smiles a smile that is even more forced than before. “Of course, dear,” she says.

But Blaine can see, and Kurt can see, and even people on the other end of town can see she doesn't mean it. She just doesn't like to argue in front of strangers, and married or not, Kurt is a stranger. They could be married for ten years, and he'd still be a stranger to her.

They leave soon after, with a cold hug for Blaine and an even colder handshake for Kurt.

“Well, fuck you very much,” Kurt says as soon as they're in the car.

Blaine winces. “I'm -”

Kurt holds up a hand. “Don't apologize. It's not your fault. And I'll try and refrain from making any such comments in the future. I understand that she is your mother, and you value her as such. Just don't apologize for her.”

They're silent as Blaine drives them to his apartment. He thinks about his own words, and the stories his mom told. Sebastian was never really the way she sees him, and what if...well, what if he really never was as good to him as Blaine thought he was?


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine's apartment is tiny and obviously mostly uninhabited. He is uncomfortably aware of that fact when he opens the door and lets Kurt into what will be his home for...well, until they get this mess sorted out.

Kurt looks around at the bare white walls and the sparse furniture.

“Well...” he says.

The old couch and the small table are nearly covered with boxes and bags, some of which have spilt their contents onto the floor. Blaine blinks in confusion. Then he sits down heavily on a pile of clothing sitting on his only chair. Sebastian must have packed his things and dumped them here. He has never gone that far before. Usually, Blaine packs a bag with necessities and waits till the storm is over and he is back in Sebastian's good graces, but this...this looks permanent.

Well, he can hardly complain. He's married to someone else—there's little more permanent than that.

Except Kurt is clearly getting second thoughts about the whole thing as he wanders around and tries doors that open, respectively, to a tiny bedroom, an even tinier bathroom and a closet.

“You can change anything you like,” Blaine offers. “Or we could rent something different. My lease is still three months, though.”

“No, I hope I won't be here that long,” Kurt says. “But tomorrow, we're going shopping.”

He's started to take the boxes off the couch and pile them along the wall. Blaine should help, but he's still in shock. He feels unable to move, let alone face a decision like what to put where. It's weird. It's afternoon, but he feels like going to bed. He could sleep for days. Maybe when he wakes someone will have everything sorted out for him.

Yeah, that won't happen. With a sigh, he moves to his feet before his body decides that the old, lumpy chair is comfortable enough for a nap. He needs to move.

He changes the sheets on the bed. His couch is definitely too small to sleep on, and with Kurt's pragmatic attitude, they'll probably sleep here together. New sheets is the least he can to do make Kurt as comfortable as possible. Though the old sheets are probably more dusty than dirty. He really hasn't been here much.

When he returns to the living room, Kurt has cleared up enough to have freed the furniture. It doesn't really help the looks of the room, but now at least they're able to sit down without squashing something. But Blaine doesn't want to stay here. This apartment, with Kurt in it, is about everything that is wrong with his life. It's not Kurt's fault, obviously, but still.

“Would you...do you want to see the Foundation?” he asks hesitantly. He somehow fears to disappoint Kurt in that area as well, though he knows that the Foundation is in much better shape that his apartment.

Kurt brightens up. “Absolutely. Though...” he hesitates. “Would you mind getting something to eat first? I know we just had lunch at your mom's, but it wasn't....I couldn't...I didn't have much of an appetite.”

Blaine appreciates Kurt's efforts to not say something insulting about his mom, even if it seems difficult. And the atmosphere at her house has certainly been less than appetizing. He hears in own stomach growl in response, and they laugh as they grab their things and walk out.

 

“Can I ask you a question?” Kurt says on the way. They're holding hands for the benefit of the Anderson mob's spy that's sure to be around somewhere. Blaine still finds it strange, but is slowly getting accustomed to it. He nods.

“I haven't met your dad, and you never talk about him. What's...I mean, I'd have thought that everyone in your family is filthy rich and at least pretends to conjugal bliss.”

“Oh,” Blaine says. He scratches his head with his free hand. He feels slightly stupid for not having said anything before. “My dad walked out shortly after my birth. He—apparently he said that no money in the world was worth staying with her. They're divorced. That's why she...she's so weird about love.”

Kurt grimaces. “That's harsh. Why haven't you said something before? I would have been more sympathetic.”

Blaine shakes his head. “It shouldn't matter. She's a grown woman, she should be able to see past her own issues.”

He has heard her complain about his father for all his life, and as much as he feels sorry for her, it does get old. It's been nearly thirty years. He can't be the reason for everything that goes wrong in her life.

“Still,” Kurt says. “I'm sorry.”

 

It's...not been the best idea to take Kurt to his favorite diner. Oh, the food is great and when their bellies are full, they share a piece of cheesecake because they can't not. Blaine soon goes from eating to just watching Kurt, although maybe he should better look away. Kurt seems to have a near-orgasmic experience with the cake, and it's all Blaine can do not to have an obvious reaction to it. He kind of feels jealous of the cake, too.

But the thing is—Blaine's favorite diner is Sebastian's favorite diner, too. And as Kurt moans over the second-to-last bite of cheesecake and Blaine curses his own principles, Sebastian walks in. He is holding hands with a young man Blaine vaguely recognizes, but he isn't really paying attention. He takes Kurt's free hand and squeezes it so hard Kurt starts to protest before he looks at Blaine's face, and understands that something is very, very wrong.

Kurt follows Blaine's gaze that is fixed on Sebastian, and seems to understand. He quickly crosses over to Blaine's side of the booth and puts his arms around him. Blaine leans a little into the hug, grateful for it for its own sake as well as for the protection it offers him from Sebastian noticing him. It also must look like a lover's embrace, and that's good, too.

Kurt whispers into his ear. “You're white as a sheet. Get a grip. I know this is hard for you, but you knew this day would come. You knew we'd run into him sooner or later. It's sooner, but that's good, because the worst will be over soon, but you have to get yourself together. He's just an asshole, you don't want him to see you like this, do you? Remember you are freshly married and ridiculously in love with your handsome husband, and he's just a jerk and whatever you're feeling right now, he's not worth it.”

That's probably about half of it, but Blaine has difficulty hearing him over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. But one thing gets through. He doesn't—really, really doesn't—want Sebastian to see him like this. And who knows who else is watching? He has to be in love, practically on his honeymoon, happy, not pale and shaking and totally lost at the thought of seeing his ex on the arm of his new boyfriend. If that's who that is. Blaine doesn't really think Sebastian will suddenly become a one-man guy, even though he's always made it seem like it was Blaine who somehow drove him into cheating.

He nods into Kurt's chest, takes a deep breath, and then pushes himself upright. From the corner of his eyes he sees Sebastian notice him, stop, then walk towards him, but he pays him no heed; instead he takes the fork and lifts the last piece of cheesecake and brings it to Kurt's lips. Kurt looks deeply into his eyes as he eats the cake, giving the fork one last seductive lick. It's a masterful piece of acting that's not even spoiled when both of them start giggling.

“And who might that be?” Sebastian asks, who's arrived at their table, his new guy standing awkwardly to the side.

“Sebastian,” Blaine says, as coldly as he can manage. He can't help his heart giving a painful little squeeze, but he tries to work around it. “This is Kurt, my husband.”

“So you really got married. I wondered if it was true. I'd have thought you'd take a little more time to get over me.”

“It wasn't the first time you dumped me. At some point, it was clear that we weren't going to work. Besides -” he gestures at the guy clinging to Sebastian's hand - “It's not like you can talk.”

He squeezes Kurt's hand, and Kurt squeezes right back, supporting him. He tries to take strength from that, tries to make his voice not shake.

“Oh, right.” Sebastian drags the man forward. He goes limply, like he has no will of his own, like he doesn't mind being treated like an afterthought. Blaine wonders if he used to look the same. “You remember Martin, right?”

He does, now. Martin has come to town to work with the Foundation, but had found teaching not to his taste. Blaine guesses he now knows the reason he stayed nevertheless. Ironically, the Foundation has greatly increased the number of gay and bi guys in Westerville, and Sebastian seems to want to sample them all.

Just as now, he is shamelessly ogling Kurt. Blaine can't begrudge him that, really, but he feels sorry for Martin, who hasn't had the time to get used to Sebastian's...everything.

“Well, Blaine and I should be going,” Kurt says. “It was...interesting to meet you.”

Blaine has never been so glad in his life to hear these words.

“How unfortunate,” Sebastian says. Then, with a leer, he adds, “When he gets boring, give me a call.”

Blaine ignores this, Martin give a forced laugh while he looks as if he wants to be anywhere but here.

Kurt, however, just smirks. “I don't think that will be a problem.”

“You don't know him as well as I do. He's so boring in bed he's practically frigid. As soon as the novelty wears off, you'll want some variety.”

The floor begins to sway, and his head is going to explode. A steadying arm wraps around his waist, pressing him close to Kurt and keeping him upright.

“I think you must have done something wrong,” Kurt says, calmly, as if explaining something to a child.

Then he turns towards Blaine and looks at him. There's a question in his eyes, and Blaine quickly blinks his consent before Kurt's lips are on his.


	7. Chapter 7

t's not even a long kiss. It certainly won't prove anything—after all, what can one kiss prove? But it does, somehow—it proves to Blaine that they are very compatible in that area. He really enjoys kissing Kurt, and after only a few seconds he can feel a very embarrassing reaction that he's sure Kurt can feel too. Talking to Sebastian has kind of doused anything he might have felt about Kurt's enthusiasm over the cheesecake, but it comes rushing back now. He tries an awkward twist to bring his hips away from Kurt's and feels himself blush, but Kurt presses his hand against the small of his back to keep him where he is.

They break the kiss. It's a good thing they're supposed to be in love, for Blaine can feel himself going all cow-eyed and dreamy. He indulges himself for a moment. It's all for a good cause, after all, and Sebastian never wanted him to look at him like that. He'd laugh at him and tell him to stop mooning. Once he threw food.

It's over soon enough.

Kurt tells Sebastian, “Well, see you soon,” in a voice that clearly says _hopefully not_.

They leave the diner, and as soon as they're outside the good feeling goes away and leaves him shivering.

He has kissed another man in front of Sebastian. He has kissed another man, full stop. Without the excuse of being under the influence.

Without any excuse at all.

He sits down heavily on a bench and buries his head in his hands. Kurt has walked a little faster than him, ranting about Sebastian the whole time. Blaine tries not to listen and nearly succeeds. His own thoughts rush in his head, there's not much room for anything else.

“...I mean, he's even more of a jerk than I initially thought, how could you ever...and that audacity! And seriously, he's not even that attractive, he looks like a chipmunk—Blaine?”

Kurt stops and turns and sees Blaine sitting there silently panicking.

“Seriously?” he says, sounding annoyed.

“Sorry,” Blaine mumbles into his hands.

Kurt drops down on the bench beside him. “I won't pretend to know what you're going through at the moment. You know I've never been in love. And when I see you like this, I'm not sure I ever want to be. I mean, do you even register how he's treated you? The things he said-”

“I heard them, Kurt,” Blaine says tiredly. “Just – can you leave me alone, please?”

“No, actually, I can't,” Kurt says. “I won't leave you sitting here to mope around over that...I can't even find words. And, you know...I have nowhere to go. You didn't give me a key yet to that cave you call an apartment.”

He shifts, and says in a quieter voice, “I also need to know if it was okay for me to kiss you. That you're not upset because of that, at least.”

Blaine starts shaking his head, but then shrugs. “I've never...I mean, I assume we kissed when...the other night. But excluding that, I have never kissed anyone but Sebastian. Excluding that night, I have never slept with anyone but Sebastian. I have never been with anyone but him. Can you...I know he's an asshole. I know he's not good to me, doesn't appreciate me, has probably never loved me. But he's all I've ever known. Can't you give me a little time to say goodbye to that?”

He's shaking, not really crying, not really yelling, but something in between. Tears are rolling down his cheeks, and he's certainly raised his voice. Here, on a bench outside his favorite diner, he's fighting with Kurt.

Kurt doesn't fight back.

“If you are going to shout like that, we could just get a divorce and be done with it, you know,” he says conversationally, and pats Blaine's knee. “Let's make a deal. You can cry all you like, and I'll even hold you and let you blubber into my shirt, and I'll try very hard not to make any comments regarding the fact that you're hung up on a caricature of a human being, but you do it at home, alright?”

Blaine has no choice but to wipe off the tears and nod. Kurt's right, after all, and while he'd never admit it, he's not so bad at comforting Blaine. He might not say much, but he gives good hugs.

“But I wanted to show you the foundation,” Blaine says miserably when he remembers.

“It's your call,” Kurt says, shrugging. “It might be, after all, that you're done crying for today.”

Blaine thinks he actually might be. He's done a fair bit of crying over the years. Maybe it's time to just...stop. If he can.

When he tells this to Kurt, he nods approvingly. “Wait a second,” he says then, and leaves. It's really barely more than a second until he reappears.

“They're gone,” he says. “You can go...freshen up, if you like.”

Blaine tries smiling at the mirror of the diner's restroom when he's finished. It's not that hard. He's not sure he means it, but he can, can't he? Seen rationally, exchanging Sebastian for Kurt, even if only temporarily, might well be an upgrade.

 

They walk to the foundation. Blaine feels better with every step. Kurt's hand in his feels less weird now than comforting. If he absolutely had to get married to a stranger, he's glad it's Kurt. He could have done a lot worse. He's sure now that Kurt can be a friend, if not a lover, if he can get his act together enough not to chase him away.

Kurt stops, tugging at his hand. Blaine looks at him; his mouth is open, and he lifts his free hand to cover it. He's staring at a group of Blaine's teachers outside the building, they're laughing at something Mike is doing, who seems to imitate the dance steps of one of his...more imaginative students. And sure, his moves are great, and he's attractive, too, but...

But Kurt isn't even staring at him. His eyes are on one of the women in the circle, one of his vocal coaches and herself one of the best singers he's ever had the pleasure to hear. And now Kurt lets go of his hand and starts running, and Blaine is about to stop him. No one's pestering his teachers, even if they might have come to dubious fame by giving up a Broadway lead to film the world's worst TV pilot.

But Kurt slips past him, and Rachel stands there with her hands on her mouth, laughing and crying at the same time, and then she opens her arms wide, and Kurt runs right into them, and they hug, and he lifts her, and Blaine feels like in a movie. He's not part of the story in any way, he is completely out of the picture, a mere watcher.

He watches them stop hugging, and talking excitedly above each other. Both of them are crying but look really happy. Blaine knows that Rachel kind of went into hiding after the failure of her pilot. He figures Kurt is her friend, and it looks like they haven't seen each other in a long time.

Then Kurt dashes back to him and kisses him on the mouth.

“Thank you,” he says, and runs right back to Rachel.

Leaving Blaine standing there touching his lips in astonishment.

 

At some point, Kurt and Rachel seem all talked out for the moment, at least enough to let others join.

“I can't believe my boss is married to my best friend,” Rachel keeps saying, and then without fail squeals and adds, “I can't believe you're married!”

“I can't believe you went six months without answering your phone,“ Kurt says, and Rachel blushes and covers her face with her hands, and then they're hugging again, and Blaine says,

“I can't believe you're friends,” just to say something.

“Yes, I sometimes can't believe that either,” Kurt says and laughs, and Blaine realizes he hasn't seen him smile that way before. Kurt is just so...happy, and Blaine is thankful to have contributed to that in some small way, even if he did it unknowingly and only because he was lucky. But it doesn't seem to be such an...imposition on Kurt anymore, to be here with Blaine, not if he has his best friend back.

Not that he has ever made it seem like one. Or not often, anyway.

 

He gets to show Kurt the foundation, too, with wide-gestured support by Rachel, who presents everything like she owns it. He doesn't care. He's proud of what he's created, and Kurt looks interested and appreciative.

They meet some of the other teachers. No surprises anymore, Kurt doesn't know any of them personally, though he's heard of some of them. Blaine introduces them like they're his children, something he's personally responsible for: he knows it and they bear it good-naturedly or eye-rollingly, depending on their natures.

“Brittany and Mike,” he says, and they wave and smile. “Dance, but they'll leave soon for bigger and better things.”

“We have a six months engagement,” Mike clarifies. “We'll be back when it's over.”

Yes, but Kurt won't be here then, Blaine thinks, and quickly points to Mercedes.

“Mercedes, singing. Quinn, acting. Santana—I'm not really sure what it is she's doing -”

“-but without me, nothing would work,” Santana interrupts, smirking.

“I was going to say that,” Blaine says, but Santana ignores him as usual. She walks around Kurt, ogling him shamelessly. Blaine nearly gets jealous although he knows she's a lesbian, but to shamelessly ogle Kurt is something he's wanted to do but hasn't had the courage to practically since they met.

At length, Santana nods with approval. “You're hot enough,” she declares. “Now please make sure he gets laid regularly so he'll stop being so annoying.”

Blaine blushes, and Kurt snorts and looks at him with a wry smile.

“I'll do my best,” he promises. Then he asks, “And what will be my job here?”

Blaine hasn't really thought about this. Originally, he had intended for Kurt to come and do a kind of motivational speech—overcoming obstacles, being yourself, daring to dream, that kind of thing. His story as far as Blaine knows it would be perfect for some of the kids who tend to doubt themselves. Now, though, he needs something more permanent to do. Blaine doesn't have to think long, though. There's always something to do.

“We always need singing coaches, a male one would be great for the boys since the technique is different. And – you've directing experience, haven't you? We haven't been able to put on a play since Artie left...”

 

They spend the day there, look into some of the classes and just wander around. In the evening, they go out to dinner with the others. Kurt sits next to Rachel. They touch occasionally as if to make sure the other one's really there. They pretty much ignore Blaine, but he doesn't mind. He talks management with Santana and just enjoys watching Kurt.

“I'd never have thought to find you back in Ohio, of all places,” Kurt says to Rachel. “Or myself, for that matter.”

“Well,” she says, “me neither. But after...everything, I felt like I had nowhere to go. And if you're an artist with nowhere to go, you come here.”

Kurt looks at Blaine as if it's only now he's really understood what the foundation is for, and he smiles.

And Blaine is happy.


	8. Chapter 8

Blaine sits on the couch in his ugly little apartment. He has just finished a call with his nonna, and they agreed to meet this afternoon, which fits fine with Kurt's plans of shopping. She is curious why he wants to talk to her so urgently, and curious of course about his husband, and she has promised to have cupcakes ready for them. He loves her.

Kurt is wandering about the apartment with a notepad, planning the changes he wants to make and deciding what they will need to buy. Blaine watches him, answering the occasional question, but otherwise keeping to himself. He agrees that his apartment says a lot about his skills in interior decorating, and nothing of it positive, so it's best to let Kurt do the planning, though he will have to help with the actual work.

“Do you want to paint the walls?” Kurt asks. “I could live with this off-white or whatever you want to call it for while I'm here, but we could make it nicer for you after I'm gone.”

“Well, I think I should make use of your superior taste while it's still at my disposal, so yes,” Blaine says.

Mostly, he just wants to see Kurt in old clothes with maybe paint on his nose or so. Also, together with his resolution yesterday to stop mourning Sebastian, this feels like a new beginning, and he wants to change as much as possible. It feels good.

“Tell me about Rachel,” he says.

Kurt flops down on the couch beside him. The couch doesn't take it well, it groans and throws Kurt for a moment against Blaine when the too-soft surface gives way too much.

“We were in high school together,” he says when he's righted himself. “I hated her. She was the star of my glee club, something I felt I was entitled to, of course -”

“Of course,” Blaine agrees. It's not meant ironically. He has heard Rachel sing, he loves her voice, but Kurt is otherworldly. He can't imagine anything Kurt isn't the star of.

Kurt shoots him a grin. “New couch?” he asks. “One that actually deserves the name, perhaps?”

Blaine wants to say no, but then he stops and thinks. He has never done something about the place, never wanted to do anything, because it was always just a place to sleep when Sebastian had once again thrown him out. Home was Sebastian's place, but now, he realizes, it isn't. It can't be anymore, never again. And this apartment, although it seems crowded with the two of them, is a decent size for him alone, and the distance from work and everywhere he likes to go is okay. With Kurt's help, maybe it could be home.

“New couch,” he agrees. Kurt writes it down on his notepad, then leans back and continues his story.

“We were always competing for solos, and honestly, she was obnoxious. Hugely talented, and she knew it, and one always felt like the talent didn't quite warrant her attitude. But, well...we were both lonely. We dueted a few times—we sound really good together—and gradually, somehow we became friends.”

He hesitates, grows serious as he asks, “Did she tell you about Finn?”

Blaine shakes his head.

“Finn was my step brother, and her fiancé. All of us thought they were crazy when they got engaged, they were so young...anyway, he... died, and it kind of brought us closer together. We were roommates when we went to New York for college, up until she went to L.A. to shoot that stupid pilot. And then she just disappeared.”

Once again, Blaine resists the urge to take Kurt's hand. Kurt's posture doesn’t allow it, it's as rigid as the couch allows. Blaine doesn't even find the courage to say, “I'm sorry.”

So instead he says, “I'm glad you found each other again. Now, this couch—should it be one someone could sleep on? Without ruining their back, I mean?”

Kurt relaxes slightly. “It'd be practical in case you have guests. Maybe there'll come a day when not everyone you know lives in this town. But.”

He doesn't look at Blaine, fiddles with a loose thread on the blanket Blaine once threw on the couch in a haphazard effort to make it look more hospitable.

“I don't want you to sleep on it. Or me, either, for that matter. I've never slept with anyone before—just slept, I mean, and I kind of like it. I sleep better when you're beside me.”

Now Blaine takes Kurt's hand, posture be damned. He squeezes once before letting go, and says,

“Okay.”

 

They shop for hours, all over town in shops Blaine didn't even know existed. Paint and painting utensils, curtains, cushions that match the couch they order, pictures to hang up on the walls, a second dresser for Kurt's clothes that should arrive any day now. A full-length mirror. Kitchen things, mugs and plates that actually match and are not chipped. They're not quite ready when they have to rush home to shower and get ready to meet with Nonna, who, Blaine knows, will take away the cupcakes if they're late.

Kurt teasingly suggests showering together to save time, and when Blaine blushes and shakes his head, he sighs.

“One of these days you'll have to explain me what it is with you and sex.”

Blaine lowers his head. Sebastian's words are all too clear in his head: _He's so boring in bed he's practically frigid_.

He's sure Kurt thinks of them, too.

Kurt's hand is on his shoulder and squeezes. “Until then, though, I'll try not to tease you anymore.”

 

As they drive up to his Nonna's old, cozy house, Blaine smiles. For once, they're going to meet a member of his family he doesn't have to feel ashamed of. His Nonna is warm-hearted and friendly; she also has a sharp sense of humor that his mom hates but he knows Kurt will appreciate. She was the rock of his childhood. Whenever his mom would rant about his dad and what made him leave and how maybe Blaine made him leave, Blaine would flee to her and she'd let him stay with her as long as he wanted, teaching him everything she thought he ought to know while he was there. He loves her very much, and he knows her unconditional love for him will extend to his husband, especially since she never got on with Sebastian.

She has set the table with coffee and cupcakes, and for a time, they are too busy eating to exchange anything more than pleasantries and compliments about the food. Even the official introductions wait until after, though of course Kurt and Nonna shook hands at the door.

Now, with his sweet tooth satisfied for the moment, Blaine leans back and indicates both of them.

“Kurt, this is my grandmother, Gianna Anderson, youngest daughter of and named after the infamous Gianni. Nonna, this is my husband Kurt.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt says. “Please call me Jan. Everyone does, except Blaine's mom, who prefers “old witch” or “his mother”. My son has mostly become the devil himself or Lord Voldemort, in that his name is never said.”

Kurt laughs, startled. “Jan. I'm Kurt.”

“He's bound to become _that man_ or something for mom, though,” Blaine says. He's trying for humor, but he knows his Nonna sees right through him.

“It's like this, is it,” she says, unsurprised but full of sympathy. “So, you mentioned having to speak to me urgently, in a matter of great importance. I must confess I'm curious what this could be.”

Blaine takes a deep breath. It's a little embarrassing to have to go through this, but more than that, this is it. Either she knows what to do, or she doesn't. If she doesn't—well. He has no other ideas how to fix this.

“You can't tell anyone. Not mom, especially not mom. No one at all, not even Liz.”

Liz is Nonna's...well. girlfriend is probably the right word, although no one ever calls her that. She just moved in some day, and stayed. Blaine adores her, but this is something only his Nonna should know. The fewer people know, the better. He resists the urge to check if the windows are closed. That would probably be a little paranoid.

At her nod, he continues. “Okay. Kurt and I are married. But we...we're not in love. We kind of accidentally got married in Las Vegas. We didn't even know each other. And we want a divorce.”

 

She laughs for about ten minutes. Kurt and Blaine sit and watch. It's easy for her to laugh. She's not the one married.

Finally she wipes the tears out of her eyes and settles down again. ”Thanks, boys. I haven't laughed as much in a long time.”

“Blaine said maybe you could help us,” Kurt says.

Calm now, she pours herself another cup of coffee. “You've put yourself in quite a situation. You can't get a divorce without losing the money and thus, the foundation. I'm sure you've checked into annulment. The first and most important thing to do is to let everyone believe you're in love. The Anderson mob is not a real mob, as you know, but they'll watch you, and if they find out you haven't married for love, they'll take away the money. Ham it up in public. Kiss, touch each other. Don't flirt with others. Don't sleep with others. Do everything to make people believe that despite the...unusual circumstances of your wedding, you're in it for eternity. I'll look into getting you a divorce that somehow works around the will. The Anderson family is quite extensive, maybe there have been others in a similar situation. I'll take care of it. Just -”

She looks at them. Though there is still laughter in her eyes, there's a warning there, too.

“It will take time.”

Blaine is so relieved she will help them he nearly misses the last part.

Kurt doesn't. “How much time are we talking?” he asks.

Jan takes a sip of her coffee. “Plan six months, at least.”

Blaine is glad he's already sitting. Surely now Kurt will leave, no one can be expected to put their life on hold for six months—at least! He grips the arm rests of his chair as he waits for Kurt to react.

“Well.” Kurt says. “Now I'm glad we already agreed to paint the walls.”


	9. Chapter 9

“You're not a wanted criminal, are you?” Blaine asks as they are driving...well, home, for lack of a better word.

“Why would you ask that?” Kurt says.

“You seem so...okay with everything. Staying here for so long, I mean. So I'm wondering if you're hiding from something. Maybe the police. Or are you in witness protection?”

He laughs to show he's not serious. He's not. Not entirely.

Kurt snorts. “No, I'm not, but thank you for thinking that. I'm not hiding. But...you could say I'm running away.”

“From what?”

Kurt's hands clench around the steering wheel. As always he gets nervous when things go personal, but he seems to be in a talking mood for once, so Blaine doesn't say anything.

“My life? Making a decision?” Kurt shrugs. “My whole life, I've wanted to be a performer. I've been working for that since my sophomore year of high school. I've never even thought about doing anything else. Like, I was an intern at Vogue.com while I waited to be accepted into college, and they told me I had the potential to make a career in fashion. And I thought, thanks, that's nice, but no. I never really thought about it, not past that it was nice to have a backup plan. And now I'm a performer. And it's....most of the parts I get offered are kind of the same. Never the lead, always about one song and part of a second. Often, I die in the second act, off stage. And I...I never thought I'd say this, but I'm bored. I enjoy doing concerts, like the one in Vegas when we met, but nobody will want to come hear me sing if I'm not on Broadway anymore. So, you know. I'm kind of thinking about a career change, but I don't really know which way I want to go or how to do it. Being here...gives me time to think and something useful to do in the meantime. You know, like Rachel said. If you're a performer with nowhere to go, you come here.”

He shrugs again, a little embarrassed. “Here I am.”

You can't stop performing, Blaine wants to say. You're wonderful when you sing. But it's not his life, not his career. This is a decision Kurt has to make on his own. Blaine is just happy he can give him a place to do so.

“Well. I'm glad you're here,” he says.

They get dinner on the way home, in a nice little restaurant where Sebastian had a falling out with the manager once, so there is no way they'll meet him here. As Blaine remembers, the food is very good, and since Sebastian isn't here, they're treated with kindness and civility. Kurt doesn't say much, but listens to Blaine talk about anything and everything, throwing in the occasional comment. Everything is back to usual, but Blaine hopes Kurt talking earlier wasn't a one-time occurrence. He likes getting to know him, gradually uncovering more of him. In a figurative sense, of course, though maybe, he might like...no. No.

Though when he wakes up the next morning, he's curled into Kurt's side, with his head resting on Kurt's shoulder. He's mortified, and moves away as soon as his sleep-addled mind gets what's happening. Kurt, thankfully, is still asleep, so Blaine rises quickly. He would very much like for Kurt not to reverse his decision to let him sleep in the bed with him, especially as their new couch hasn't even been delivered yet.

They go to work together, though Blaine starts to think he should take care to let Kurt do things alone, too. It must be difficult enough to be suddenly living together with someone, he doesn't need him glued to his side all the time. But as both of them have to go the same way....and anyway, Kurt has his first class at eleven, while Blaine will probably be working on administrative things the whole day, holed up in his office with only the occasional glance at what's going on in the outside world. So.

He'll go eat lunch alone, though, and let Kurt and Rachel have time together.

This plan is made moot when Rachel accosts them in the hallway as soon as they arrive.

“Lunch together,” she announces, then hurries to her class.

Blaine spends the morning in his office, dealing with things that have amassed in his absence, and preparing everything for Kurt to be an official, if temporary, teacher at the foundation. He is sorely tempted to check up on Kurt during his first class. His student is a talented if temperamental boy called Jake; Blaine really wants to know if he'll try getting mouthy with Kurt, and how Kurt will react. In fact, he gets up and walks to the door two or three times, he is so curious, until he reminds himself of his resolution not to crowd Kurt. He also needs to trust Kurt to handle his lessons and his students. He does—he just really wants to see Kurt look at Jake with that terrifying look in his eyes. Despite everything, he gets a lot of work done until lunch, when he meets with Kurt and Rachel outside. They get sandwiches and coffee and then sit down at the picnic table in the small yard.

“I have decided to help you plan your housewarming party,” Rachel says as soon as they're sitting.

She's been here long enough to know to talk fast when they're outside. There's no knowing when a student will come with a question or something, as apparently visible teachers are fair game even when they're chewing.

“We're not having a housewarming party,” Blaine says. “I've been living in that apartment for years.”

“No, you haven't,” Rachel says. “You slept there whenever Sebastian threw you out, but that's all. Now you live there with your husband, who has told me you have plans to finally decorate the place. So it's time for a housewarming party.”

God, how many people know about him and Sebastian? He's always thought that despite their problems they had at least looked like a real couple to other people. They certainly had to his mom. But maybe he had called Rachel a little too often when he and Sebastian had hit a rough patch again, and they had cried together over a bottle, he about his relationship and she about her career.

“She has a point,” Kurt says. “But we're still not having a housewarming party. At least, not before we've finished redecorating.”

“Of course,” Blaine says, resigned to the inevitable, but trying to have something good come out of it, “it would be sooner if maybe someone would help us, say, paint the walls...”

So the next weekend, Brittany, Mike and Mercedes come and help them paint the walls in the fresh, cheerful colors they (well, Kurt) have chosen. Rachel isn't there, which doesn't really surprise any of them, but they actually have a lot of fun, even though they're glad they're wearing old clothes and have covered all the furniture when Brittany starts a paint fight.

A few days later, Blaine hardly recognizes the place. It's bright and cozy, and he knows that for a while at least, coming home to such an apartment will immediately make even the worst day better. He nearly feels at home now. The only thing that bothers him is that it's so very Kurt. He doesn't mind while Kurt is here, but it'll feel strange once he's gone.

 

When it stops smelling of paint, they have the party. It's a rather small affair, since Blaine realizes that his colleagues are his only friends because Sebastian slowly but surely scared away everyone else, and Kurt doesn't really know anyone else yet. Jan and Liz show up for half an hour at the beginning, but Jan shakes her head when he asks her about anything new about the divorce. Blaine feels guilty about it, but he knows it's good he didn't ask his mom to come.

Rachel redeems herself by bringing dessert and lots and lots of booze. They order pizza and sit on the floor to eat it, as there isn't enough room on the furniture for all of them. It is rather crowded with all of them there, but Blaine loves it. He's never done anything like this, not in this place at least, and he finally knows why it's called a housewarming party. This is his home, it can be his home, and he's really glad about it.

He's smiling to himself until Mercedes nudges him into the side.

“What are you so happy about?” she asks.

He grins at her. “Oh, you know. Great apartment, good friends, pizza. Everything good in one place.”

“Don't forget your gorgeous husband!” Rachel calls. She's somewhat drunk already, as are they all, and practically draped over Kurt.

“Him, too,” Blaine says, and Kurt sticks his tongue out at him. “Though the way you are practically sitting on his lap, he looks more like your husband.”

Rachel stands up awkwardly, supporting herself on Kurt's shoulder, and moves over to Blaine.

“Let's switch, then.”

Blaine stands and moves over to Kurt with an apologetic smile, while Rachel sits down and starts cuddling with Mercedes instead. Blaine sits down next to Kurt, balancing his beer.

“You never told us how you met and got married,” Mike says.

Traitor, Blaine thinks. One time you rely on people being the quiet ones...

“Yes, and why you're not with Sebastian anymore,” Brittany says. He's just thankful Santana is quiet for once, too busy sucking a hickey into her girlfriend's neck while Mercedes pokes her to get her to stop. Santana and Kurt could have a contest about who came up with more mean nicknames for Sebastian.

“Well...” Blaine says while Kurt grins and hastily takes a bite of his pizza.

So they tell their story, the version where they met and fell in love and got married on a whim, as opposed to the version where they met and got drunk and got married without remembering the other's name in the morning. Blaine is mostly sure he isn't so drunk that he lets slip something that shouldn't be told. They get laughed at a lot, but these are their friends; though one or two shake their heads, no one says as much as 'Bad idea'. They get toasted with beer and margaritas and whatever everyone is drinking, and are demanded to kiss, which they do briefly and good-naturedly. For once, Blaine doesn't overthink it, and even rests his head on Kurt's shoulder for a moment after.

It's a great party. They finish the pizza and the vegan tiramisu Rachel made that tastes a little weird, but at that point all of them are too drunk to care beyond teasing her about her non-existent cooking skills.

The others leave at about three a.m., calling a cab for all of them, and Blaine and Kurt skip clearing up and stagger right to bed. They laugh as they walk against things, and then continue laughing as they fall into bed with their clothes on. Blaine's last conscious thought is that he is really, really drunk.


	10. Chapter 10

Blaine opens one eye. It's a bad idea, so he closes it again.

And then he opens both eyes wide as panic and a sense of déjà-vu hit him.

Not again. No. No no no no no.

But there's no denying that he's naked, and when he tries to move, he notices a leg is draped over his, and when he tries to move the – Kurt's – leg, it's kind of sticking to him.

Yuck.

He pushes at the leg until it moves, though it pulls the hair on his legs and hurts. It seems to hurt Kurt too, for he grunts and then moves, throwing an arm over Blaine's chest.

So he's still asleep.

Blaine knows he has to think about what they've done—again -, and he will, probably too much, but for now, going back to sleep sounds like a wonderful idea. His head hurts, he's nauseous, and he just doesn't feel up to analyzing the feelings he has about once again not remembering sex with Kurt. He's tired, and he wants to sleep. So he does.

 

When he wakes again, he feels...at least ready to rise and walk to where the smell of coffee comes from. He is alone in bed (someone had to make the coffee, after all), and he slowly, gingerly sits up. His head feels close to exploding, every movement hurts, and with gratitude he sees the glass of water and the painkillers on the nightstand.

After swallowing the pills, he goes to take a shower. He feels better after; for one thing, not being sticky anymore helps considerably. He dresses in his oldest, most comfortable clothes. For once, he pays no heed to his appearance as he usually tries to do; Kurt always looks impeccable, so he himself dresses with care so as not to feel sloppy. But he has no energy for that today.

As it turns out, Kurt doesn't, either. Like Blaine he has foregone style for comfort, and he looks slightly green around the mouth and has rings under his eyes. He's sitting on the couch, legs drawn up, cup of coffee in hand, and gestures wearily in the direction of the coffee machine when Blaine enters.

When Blaine joins him on the couch, Kurt opens his eyes. “We need to stop doing this,” he says.

“Getting drunk or having sex?” Blaine asks. He sighs contentedly when he tastes the first sip of coffee. He kind of waits for nausea to hit him, but it doesn't, so he tentatively takes another sip.

Kurt groans and leans back, nearly spilling his coffee. “Even the worst sex could never make me feel like this.”

Blaine nods, wincing as his headache sets in again, and closes his eyes.

“Although,” Kurt says, “we probably should stop having sex too. I mean, if you don't want to when you're sober, we shouldn't when we're drunk.”

“My body seems to be of a different opinion, at least when I'm drunk,” Blaine says. Or not only when he's drunk. He remembers a very embarrassing dream a few nights ago, from which he woke up hard and sweaty, and the protagonist in his dream has most definitely been Kurt.

And it's not even only his body anymore. Kurt is very attractive, even now, in his unkempt, slightly nauseous state, and Blaine's found himself daydreaming more than once how it would be to explore the attraction between them. If Kurt would still be willing. He's stopped teasing, as he had promised, but maybe that's just because he's not interested anymore. Blaine knows he's not the type to keep anyone's interest for a longer time....

“Can I ask...,” Kurt says, hesitation evident in his voice, “can I ask if there's a special reason you don't want to have sex? I mean, not that you need one...but sometimes, I think you are...attracted to me, but then...”

“I am,” Blaine says, quickly. “I am attracted to you. You know I'm your biggest fan.” His laugh doesn't sound as easy as he's wanted it to.

It's Kurt's insecurity that makes him answer so quickly. Kurt has asked the same question before, much more bluntly, but now...it's like he's not sure if he wants to know the answer.

Blaine sits back and closes his hands around his coffee so he has something to occupy his hands while he talks. Though it's maybe a bad time. His head hurts abominably in spite of the pills. What he wants, really, is silence.

But he knows he won't talk at all if he doesn't do it now, and he doesn't want Kurt to get the impression that Blaine might not want him. Because nothing could be further from the truth.

“It's...I like sex, I do, just....,” he says, then starts again and takes the time to make sense of the words in his head first.

“It's two things, mostly. You know that I've only ever been with Sebastian.”

Kurt nods.

“And you also know that Sebastian is...not always the nicest person?”

Kurt snorts, but then says, “Sorry,” and nods again.

“So, we were so young when we got together, and we were together for such a long time, and I always saw us as...a unit. Belonging together. I expected us to grow old together.”

He notes with surprise that it doesn't hurt....or not so much as he has expected.

“I honestly didn't even look at other people. And I knew he didn't....feel that connection as much as I did, or at least didn't see it as a reason not to hook up, but that didn't mean I would do the same. And whenever he broke up with me...even then, I didn't...because in my head, if I just stayed...faithful to him, it would mean it wasn't really over, you see?”

He takes a sip of his coffee and thinks. This was then. Now it's...something else, and he doesn't like to say it at all. But he does.

“And now...you heard what he said about me...what if it's true? What if he's cheated all this time because I'm boring and just bad in bed?”

 

Kurt looks like he wants to kill someone. “If I,” he says, “were not so terribly hungover, I'd take you to bed right now to show you that that's absolutely not true. I mean, I don't actually know what we did, because unfortunately I can't remember, but we did it five times that first night. Nobody has sex that often in one night if it's bad, or even just mediocre.”

Blaine has to laugh. “True,” he says. “Probably.”

“You know I'm right,” Kurt says. “Tell me....how did you like sex with Sebastian?”

Blaine shrugs. “It was good. I mean, I got off, usually.”

“ _Usually?_ ” Kurt throws his hands up in exasperation. “Look, one night stands are easy. You don't know anything about your partner, so you just focus on getting yourself off, and hope that it works out for the other one as well. And if it doesn't—well, it was just one night, no harm done, right? Being with someone for a long time takes work—which is one of the reasons why I'm single. So, if Sebastian thought you had bad sex, it was probably just him not knowing how or being too lazy to put in the work it takes to keep sex with the same person for ten years interesting.”

“But that goes for me, too,” Blaine says.

“Maybe. But he's had a lot more...inspiration.”

Blaine somehow can't believe he laughs at this, but he does. The thought that Sebastian should have used his numerous hookups as inspiration to spice up their sex life has just never occurred to him, and it's just so absurd he has to laugh.

“Look,” Kurt says. “You know I have no idea what I'm talking about. I just have a very satisfying agreement with one or two colleagues, who are sadly bereaved now that I'm sort of monogamous and, sadly, celibate.”

“Well,” Blaine says. “If you're willing to overlook the fact that I'm apparently very inexperienced and might be boring....I mean...”

Damn. He had hoped to get that offer over with without stumbling over his words. An offer he can't really believe he's about to make.

“I mean,” he repeats, “if you're still interested, maybe you won't have to be celibate much longer.”

Kurt looks at him with a smile that is, Blaine hopes, less surprised than impressed.

“I am interested,” he says. Then he presses a hand against his temple and winces. “As long as you don't expect anything today.”

“Oh my god, no,” Blaine says, groans and closes his eyes. “Don't take it personally, but just the idea of so much exertion makes me queasy.”

Kurt chuckles and shakes his head. “We could, however, go back to bed for a couple of hours of sleep?” he suggests.

They do.

 

When nothing happens over the next few days, Blaine starts to wonder what he did wrong. Yes, they are busy with work, and though they had promised they would respect their newly-weds' desire for privacy, their friends hardly give them a moment alone. But he would have thought...had he been...not passionate enough? Should he have...fallen into Kurt's arms at the earliest opportunity? Should he not have talked about it at all, just let actions speak? He had hardly gotten the words out. Actually doing something would have been...really too much to expect. Is still too much to expect. Of course, Kurt doesn't know that. Maybe he waits for him to take the first step? Because he hesitated for so long? Should he maybe just greet him with a kiss one day and see what happens? But that seems like a very couple-y thing to do, and they're not a couple.

Well. It's not like he's...constantly horny or anything. He doesn't need...it's just, he wakes up again at night hard and aching from dreams of Kurt, and looks at his sleeping form beside him and wishes he had the courage to wake him. Or he hears him sing in the shower in the morning and wishes he had the courage to join him. In more than the song. He totally does that.

But there are other things to think about, and he just wishes he wasn't so distracted half the time, because the prospects are...exciting. Kurt is going to direct a play, he's not sure yet if musical or straight play, but maybe Artie will be able to come down and film it and make it into an ad for them to show on local TV. It's been some time since they had press, they can use it and the money that usually comes with it, not to mention that the kids are really excited about it.

With all that going around in his head, it's really no wonder he misses other parts of his life that might need some thinking about.

Until his mother stands in his office.


	11. Chapter 11

“Mom,” he says, surprised. He doesn't think she has ever come to see him at work before. He walks around from behind his desk, and shows her to the little chairs and tables where he talks with the parents of his students.

“Blaine, darling,” she says, tenderly touching his cheek as she looks into his eyes. He starts to get scared. She is dressed formally, in a tasteful suit with a knee-length skirt and a little hat.

“Has someone died?” he asks, though the suit is green rather than black. He can't think of another reason she would come to him at work, dressed like this, with that kind but somewhat artificial smile on her face.

A little laugh as she sits down, just as artificial as the smile. “Oh no, it's nothing bad, really. Or....well, I'm sure at some point you will be glad I told you.”

That sentence has never, ever meant anything good.

“What is it, mom?” Blaine says, bracing himself for sickness or bankruptcy.

“Blaine, I believe your husband is cheating on you.”

Ooo-kay.

“What makes you believe that?” Blaine asks cautiously. Strangely, she never came to him telling on Sebastian. Besides, he's pretty sure Kurt is not cheating on him—and even if he did, it wouldn't really be cheating. Not that she knows that.

“I don't like telling you this,” she says. “But Mrs Greenberg said her niece saw him standing in class with a...a hickey on his neck.”

Oh, right. His drunk self had apparently been a little....overly enthusiastic. Kurt had scolded him, calling hickeys impossibly tacky, but had eventually decided against wearing a scarf, saying a hickey could only work in their favor.

“Yes?” he says, not understanding. Why would a hickey mean Kurt....oh. Oh God, he so doesn't want to talk about this.

“I did this,” he says, but sees he needs to clarify. “I put the hickey on Kurt's neck.”

“But...you don't do hickeys,” his mom says, sounding vaguely disgusted. “Sebastian never-”

“Sebastian wore a lot of hickeys from a lot of different men,” he interrupts, slowly getting angry.

“Well, it's not his fault so many gay men came to town for your foundation,” she huffs, as if that makes any sense at all.

“That doesn't mean he had to sleep with all of them!” He's nearly yelling now and takes a few deep breaths too calm himself. He just doesn't understand why she's here, what she wants...

'Your foundation'. Well, at least it's not 'your little project' anymore. It's become too big for that, apparently even she sees that.

“I'll go if you'll just yell at me,” she threatens.

He rises. “Close the door on your way out.”

It's as rude as he's ever been to her, and she huffs again and rises, but stops with her hand on the doorknob.

“So you really sleep with him,” she says.

“Of course I do, mom. He's my husband.”

It's not even a lie. Their drunken night together was only a few days ago, after all. That totally counts.

To his considerable dismay, she comes back and sits down again.

“I just don't understand why you're married,” she says.

“Because we were drunk. We had a...connection, and we were drunk, and we got married.”

It might be true. What does he know? He still doesn't remember anything about that night. They have a connection now, if only as friends, and that's what's important.

“I know it's not ideal. It wasn't how I envisioned my wedding either. But we...decided to give it a go. And it's been good, mom. And it's not like I had eligible men running in my door.”

“Sebastian-”

“Sebastian cheated on me with every gay, bi and even just slightly curious guy in town. And in the process, he somehow made me—and you—believe that it was my fault somehow, that I'm so boring in...in bed and out, that he had practically no other choice. I'm just starting to unlearn that. I'm just starting to feel like I'm worth something as a person again, and that's....that's on Kurt, mom. He's been kind. He doesn't let me wallow in self pity, or blame myself for everything going wrong. He's never made me feel like I'm not enough. And...isn't that something you should want for me? Shouldn't you want for me to be happy, and not in some kind of fu– screwed up thing that makes me feel permanently inferior?”

“Of course!” she says, much more calm than him. “But I don't think Kurt will make you happy, not in the long run. Maybe he's not cheating on you. I don't know. But I still think you got married suspiciously quickly, and I think he's using you for your money and your connections.”

Blaine lets his head sink on his hands, tired. He wishes she would just go. He doesn't want to have to defend his relationship anymore, because it's not a real relationship and even though everything he's said up to now is at least sort of true, there's so many ways this could go into lying territory and he's never found it easy to lie to his mom. Which is about the only reason he doesn't make up a ton of work just to get her to leave.

“Kurt is a very successful Broadway performer. You know how I always talked about him before I even met him! He has all the money and all the connections he needs.”

And should the money run out, Kurt could live very comfortably if he sold half of his wardrobe. The rest of it has finally arrived, much to Kurt's relief, and they're having serious problems fitting all of it into the apartment. Not that Blaine would ever actually suggest to sell it. Kurt would never forgive him, and...well, he does appreciate the way the clothes look on Kurt.

“Then why isn't he on Broadway?” his mother asks.

 

Twenty minutes later, Blaine closes the door with a relieved sigh. He is under no illusions that he has somehow convinced his mother that his relationship with Kurt is genuine and loving, without Kurt using him for something. He also isn't surprised about that. Mainly because his relationship with Kurt is neither genuine nor particularly loving, though he likes to think they are at least friends now. And in truth, it's him who is using Kurt, though in his defense it's with Kurt's knowledge and consent.

But mostly, it's just his mother being set in her ways, and hard to convince otherwise when she's made up her mind about something. And she's had ten years to tell herself Sebastian was the perfect boyfriend; it will probably take at least as long to make her get used to Kurt.

Blaine would have liked them to get along, but it doesn't really matter. Kurt won't be here in ten years, and his mother will have to get used to Blaine being single and later, hopefully, to Blaine being with someone else entirely.

Tiredly, he lets himself fall into his chair. It creaks alarmingly and reminds him to maybe let Kurt look over his office as well. He took more care here than with his apartment, just because he used to spend more time here, but he knows it looks cluttered and unorganized and his furniture is old, not to mention far from back-friendly.

He is so tired. His mother had an answer to everything he said, or at least another question that was equally awkward to answer. She even asked about their sex life, although she looked the whole time like she was biting into a lemon. Blaine probably looked much the same while trying to answer. And here, he had had to lie; there had been no way around it since he doesn't remember any of their sexual encounters. He promised they are being safe, and he also promised there'd be no more hickeys that obvious. Apart from that—well. He can make what he told her true in retrospect.

 

He waits at home for Kurt to come back, dinner prepared but not finished. He has no idea how long what he plans will take, and he knows he will lose courage if he waits until after they've eaten. He's relieved when he hears the key, but still doesn't really know how he's going to go for this, so he takes the most direct approach.

When Kurt, by way of hello, says, “If this Jake kid opens his mouth one more time, I swear -”, Blaine presses him against the door and kisses him, interrupting him effectively and rather rudely. Kurt doesn't seem to mind though. After a second of surprise and a rather undignified “mph”-sound, he kisses back, although he still seems a little confused.

It's the first time Blaine kisses Kurt instead of the other way round, at least the first time he will remember tomorrow. He's thoroughly enjoying himself. Sebastian didn't like kissing. Or at least, it was just a means to an end for him. Crassly said, he'd shove his tongue down Blaine's throat to indicate he was going to shove something else somewhere else soon.

But Kurt...Kurt's mouth is warm on his, if a little hesitant, and after only a little while Blaine finds the courage to let his tongue brush over Kurt's lips. Kurt gasps in surprise and opens his mouth for him, but only a short time later, he gently ends the kiss. Blaine represses a pout.

“What brought this on?” Kurt asks. He's leaning against the door and grinning contentedly.

“My mother,” Blaine says and leans in again for another kiss. But Kurt frowns and stops him with a hand against his chest.

“Wait,” he says. “Do I want to know?”

Blaine sighs, takes Kurt's hand and leads him to the couch. He lets himself fall down—the new couch reacting with a good-natured squeak instead of the dying groan the old couch would have made -. nearly pulling Kurt down on top of him. To his disappointment, Kurt catches himself and sits down beside him instead.

“You really don't.” Blaine says with another sigh. “Let's just say some of her remarks inspired me to finally make a move on you.”

“Nice,” Kurt says,. “I've been waiting for you to.”

“Why didn't you take the first step?”

Kurt shrugs. “I felt it had to be your decision.”

Blaine is indignant. “I already told you I wanted to! This sort of thing isn't easy for me, you know?”

Kurt leans back and closes his eyes. “I know. Sorry. Just...I haven't really felt good about that kiss in the diner, you know? I shouldn't have done that, not without asking you first. I wanted to make sure this time.”

“But...you do want to, right?”

Kurt grins and nods. “Oh, I do want to.”

“So, can we...?”

“Go back to kissing? Yes, we can.” Finally, Blaine pulls Kurt down on top of him, and they do.


	12. Chapter 12

As he is kissing Kurt, Blaine soon forgets any shyness. His tongue is in Kurt's mouth, Kurt's is in his, and it feels so good. It feels even better to have Kurt's erection press against him, and he moans into Kurt's mouth, ignoring the uneasy feeling that they are moving too fast. Not that he doesn't want them to go there...wherever 'there' is. He just wants to savor it, now that he's actually kissing Kurt, and feeling Kurt's weight on him, and feeling Kurt's—well. Now that he's sober, he wants to remember every second of it, but he's well on the way to losing his mind. He'd like to stay with kissing for a little bit, maybe. Just to be safe. Just to make sure.

Kurt's phone rings. Blaine groans with mixed disappointment and relief when Kurt kneels up and scrambles to get his phone out of his pocket. He misses Kurt's mouth on his as soon as it's gone, and pleads, “Can't you just let it go to voicemail?”

Kurt looks at his phone and shakes his head. “It's Rachel. I promised—Never mind. I'll tell you later.”

He accepts the call and listens to Rachel while still straddling Blaine. Blaine sneaks a hand between them to adjust himself in his pants, and Kurt gives him a knowing smirk.

“A moment.- I have to ask Blaine,” Kurt says rather unenthusiastically into the phone, then covers it with his hand and says, “She's bored and wants to come over. It sounds like she won't accept no for an answer.”

Blaine groans. “You should have let it go to voicemail.” He leans back against the armrest of the couch, closes his eyes and refuses to believe he'll have to move soon.

“I couldn't,” Kurt says. “After...the way she disappeared, I made her promise to always answer her phone when it's me calling. She made me promise the same.”

“So tell her yes, since apparently we have no choice. Tell her to bring food. Pizza.”

Blaine's grumbling, but he's not really upset. And he doesn't really feel like cooking anymore. Dinner will keep until tomorrow. He'd like to keep kissing Kurt until she arrives. Just maybe sitting up.

 

He should have known she isn't just bored. She wants to be distracted and coddled, because today is one of the days she doesn't feel good about herself. He knows teaching at the foundation has helped her a lot, he's given her a home and a place to go to when it looked like she wasn't welcome anywhere. He's eternally grateful he got the chance to do that, and she is a great teacher, a real asset to the foundation.

But from time to time she remembers that she didn't set out to be a teacher, that what she really wants to do is perform, and that she played the role of her dreams and threw it away, making herself look unreliable and unprofessional in the process.

Blaine sighs. It was the most stupid decision, of course. But doesn't she deserve a second chance? He wants to help her. If they could get her to performing somehow...Their focus has to be their students, of course, but maybe Rachel could be the opening act to the play...he knows that if a producer or someone saw her perform, they'd have no choice but to fall under her spell. He'll have to think about it. Talk it through, with Kurt and maybe Mercedes when she is in one of her more generous moods.

At the moment, though...Rachel wants to be distracted, and what she wants to be distracted with is gossip.

Unfortunately, it hasn't gone unnoticed that Blaine's mom was at his office today.

“Why was she there, Blaine?” Rachel asks with detached curiosity. “It's never a good sign when the parents show up. Usually, they want to complain about something.”

“I'm not a student, Rachel,” Blaine says, but he can see it's not working. Kurt, as usual in situations like these, is no help at all; he just watches them with amusement.

Blaine sighs. “Okay, she came to complain.”

“About what?” Rachel asks. At least, tormenting him seems to have a positive effect on her. She's a lot less dejected than when she came here.

“I don't want to say.” He looks at Kurt apologetically. It's never nice to hear that someone doesn't like you. It must be especially bad to hear that about the mother of someone you've done so much for.

“Oh, do go on,” Kurt says, waving aside Blaine's scruples. “I know your mother doesn't like me.”

His face says the feeling is mutual, but true to his promise, he doesn't say anything.

Blaine grins uneasily, feeling torn. Thinking about it, it is actually pretty funny, apart from the fact that his mom doesn't know, can't know, how much he owes to Kurt, and that he hates that she doesn't even give him a chance, or even offers the bare courtesies you'd show a stranger.

“Well, at first she...she said you were cheating on me. Because of the—you know, the-” He gestures at Kurt's neck, where the hickey is still faintly visible.

“Oh my God!” Kurt laughs and tilts his neck to display the hickey for Rachel's benefit, who starts laughing as well. “Oh my God, that must have been so awkward.”

“Wait,” Rachel says. “She thought Kurt cheated because he has a hickey?”

Blaine nods. “Apparently it's not like me to leave hickeys. And—are you really going to make me go through all of this again? Because it _was_ awkward. Really, really awkward.”

“Sorry, baby,” Kurt says and rubs his knee. Rachel laughs gleefully and nods, leaning forward eagerly.

Blaine sighs. Distracting her seems to work, and he's glad about it. He just wishes he could stop doing it.

“She also didn't seem to—she seemed to think we didn't have sex.” He diligently avoids looking at Kurt, who would now know exactly why he got the idea to kiss him out of the blue. “I don't know why, don't ask me.”

He grabs a piece of pizza and takes a bite. It's nearly cold now, and he isn't hungry anymore. He just wants an excuse not to open his mouth, but of course it's only a temporary reprieve. Soon, Rachel motions for him to go on.

“And then, when I told her that I...put the hickey on Kurt, she said he was just using me for money. So that was my day. How was yours?”

Rachel is appropriately indignant, Kurt seems mostly amused. It doesn't make Blaine feel better. He remembers, as he hasn't for a few days (and he wonders how he could forget) the note in the bouquet they got back in Vegas, and the fact that his would-be mobster family probably watches their every move. And now his mother does something like this. He's so embarrassed he can hardly stand it.

Kurt puts his arm around his shoulder while Rachel watches with a smile, and Blaine buries his face against Kurt's neck for a moment. For a moment, he forgets that the comforting gesture and the wry smile must be solely because of Rachel's presence. Still, he tries to find what comfort he can, and whispers, “I'm so sorry,” into Kurt's ear. Kurt merely squeezes his shoulder as a response.

“But...but that's terrible!” Rachel says. “How can she say these things?”

Blaine shrugs. “I don't understand either.”

“That must make things really awkward. How do you cope?”

The answer is, of course, that it may be awkward now, but comparatively easy to bear because they know it's only temporary. Soon enough, Kurt will be back in New York, untouched by parental disapproval, and Blaine...well, Blaine will just have to deal with all of the “I told you so”s.

He grabs Kurt's hand.

 

When Rachel finally leaves, Blaine gets up and goes to the bedroom, slowly getting ready for bed. He doesn't feel up to any more talking, especially that despite what he said, Kurt must be angry. But Kurt isn't cruel. Maybe he'll leave it be until the morning.

He's just started to pull off his shirt when Kurt comes after him.

“I'm so sorry,” he says, muffled because the shirt's over his head.

“You already said that,” Kurt says. He pulls the shirt over Blaine's head, and Blaine can see the smile is still there.

“Are you...not angry?” he asks.

Kurt shakes his head. Then he shrugs. “Not at you, anyway.”

He absentmindedly folds the shirt and hangs it over the back of the chair they use only for that purpose. “I'm not going to lie. It's...hard, hearing that kind of things about oneself. But it wasn't you who said them. And I also wasn't lying when I said I wasn't depending on your mother's good opinion of me. It might be an issue if I were to stay here for longer than I am, but the way it is....”

He shrugs again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Does she know about the will? Because I'd have thought that she'd...want you to stay married, and not make your husband look bad in front of you, and basically encourage you to...well.”

“She didn't make you look bad, just herself. And yes, she knows. It's just...she never liked I went into the arts. She wanted me to become a lawyer or a doctor, something prestigious. And she doesn't like that with the foundation, I'm basically encouraging others to, well...waste their time, as she put it. So she probably wouldn't mind if I lost the money.”

Oh God, that sounds so bad. She isn't like this. She's always been bitter about his dad leaving, but....He can remember her sitting on the floor with him when he was a child, playing some game. Helping him with homework, even once making him skip school so they could spend her only free day of the week together. And when he came out, he couldn't have wished for a better reaction. But now... There's not much left of that.

Kurt stands for a while as he contemplates Blaine's answer. Then he smiles slowly, looking at Blaine.

“Now I really want to prove her wrong. For however long it takes till Jan figures things out, I want us to have the best marriage possible, and I want the foundation to continue being great. I guess...it's the same feeling that prompted you to kiss me today?”

“Part of it,” Blaine answers honestly. “The other part was that I really wanted to.”

Kurt's smile turns seductive. “And when we were kissing before Rachel came over...did you like that?”

Blaine's mouth goes dry. “I did,” he manages. “Very much.”

“I did, too,” Kurt says. Then he takes off his shirt, and...it's nothing Blaine hasn't seen before. Probably. But...he mobilizes what's left of his brain to remember this, the way Kurt's muscles move on his back as he puts away his shirt and then turns back to Blaine.

“What I'd like to know,” Kurt says, sitting down on the bed, “is how far you want to take this.”

Today? Or in general? It doesn't matter, really, because Blaine wants everything with Kurt.

“I want everything,“ he says. “But I want to...”

It sounds stupid when he's about to say it.

“What?” Kurt asks.

“I want to remember it this time.”

“Well,” Kurt says. “We're sober this time, so you should. And if not,” he grins, and pulls Blaine down on the bed with him, “we'll just have to do it again.”


	13. Chapter 13

He will definitely remember this. Maybe not every detail, like he had imagined before, everything a moment seared into his memory forever. Not that. Because then he'd be too occupied trying to remember everything, and wouldn't get to feel, and enjoy, and do all the things he wants to to Kurt, who is a very enthusiastic recipient of his attention.

Most of the time, anyway.

Blaine is sucking hungrily at Kurt's neck and doesn't even register what he's doing until Kurt's hand in his hair pulls him away from his target.

“No more hickeys, remember?” Kurt gasps, and Blaine nods shakily, says, “Right,” and turns his attention to safer, but no less gratifying areas of Kurt's body.

Again and again, though, he comes back to Kurt's mouth. He loves kissing Kurt. He feels like a virgin a little bit, a cautious adventurer who goes exploring Kurt's body but needs to come back to kissing for something familiar, but so good. Though he gets more adventurous there, too, nibbling at Kurt's lips and exploring him with his tongue while Kurt indulges him until he finally takes back control of the kiss, leaving Blaine breathless and whimpering and almost too horny to go back down Kurt's body to explore him further.

But only almost. Kurt makes the most amazing noises, and holds nothing back when he's gripping Blaine's hair as he sucks his nipples or when he's kicking and wriggling because Blaine's tongue tickles his sides. Blaine loves it. He's not doing everything right. Sebastian seldom wanted to be touched this way, he was all about getting off as quickly as possible. So Blaine never really had the opportunity to do this, to explore and worship someone's body, and of course he doesn't know everything, doesn't know Kurt's body. But Kurt never actually gives him the feeling of doing something wrong. They laugh together, and they moan together and try to catch their breath enough to occasionally say something.

They don't do everything Blaine wanted to, because when they roll to their sides and kiss and their cocks brush, he can't help himself anymore. He just rubs himself against Kurt and presses their bodies together and comes within minutes, never stopping to kiss Kurt. He'd be embarrassed, but Kurt moans when he notices it and follows suit a second later, and they end up wet and sticky and completely satisfied.

Suddenly, Blaine feels a little shy. It has never been like this, so simple and joyful and good. Sex has always been this...big thing for him, a confirmation, a celebration of the love he felt for Sebastian, even if it had only ever been in his head. Even if Sebastian never felt the same. But this, now, with Kurt....it's not love. It's no confirmation of anything, it's not a big thing. It's just desire, and fun, and friendship. He laughs a little.

“Mhm?” Kurt asks, turning his head toward him.

“I'm feeling weird,” Blaine says. “Like I should either propose to you or gather my clothes and crawl home under cover of darkness.”

“Well, we're already married, and you live here, so...” Kurt says. He lets go of Blaine and stretches. He looks like a big contented cat. He also looks really good.

Suddenly though, he frowns. “You're not going to make this awkward, are you?” he asks.

Blaine grins. “Surprisingly, I don't think so.”

“Good. Cause I'd really like to do this again at some point.”

 

Blaine feels great. He really, really likes having sex with Kurt. He is nervous every time it comes to this, before, because everything feels like the first time, though he's reasonably sure he has fucked as well as been fucked by Kurt, multiple times. He still blushes at the thought.

During, though, he isn't nervous. He realizes he has never before given a blowjob without the feeling that he was being judged, that afterwards he'd have to stand up on a stage and have Sebastian critique his performance (he snickers at the thought of Sebastian in a Nina Garcia wig, telling him, “That was atrocious, just tragic.” That he's able to laugh at this shows, he thinks, how far he has come). He enjoys blowing Kurt, he enjoys everything with Kurt, and though it's passionate, it's always also kind of light-hearted and fun. He likes that.

“Maybe, when we're divorced,” he says, lying next to Kurt, who is naked and still shining with sweat. It's a very appealing look. “Maybe I should do all that stuff, you know. Casual stuff. Making a grindr account. Hooking up with guys in bars.”

“You are saying that, to me, after having sex in our marriage bed?” Kurt says, a hand dramatically pressed to his heart. He's laughing, but it seems to Blaine that it's somewhat forced. Maybe that was really insensitive.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean it that way. I just meant...now that I found out how fun sex can be, I want to keep having it. And you won't always be there to give it to me. Although everyone else will have a tough act to follow.”

“Much better,” Kurt says, grinning. Then he grows serious. “You could do that, I suppose. But...I'm not saying it's a bad thing to do, I just don't think it's right for you. It wasn't for me. I tended to feel dirty afterwards, and not only because of kneeling on some filthy bathroom floor.”

Blaine nods slowly. Maybe going from a relationship that was as committed as could be, at least on his side, to having sex with strangers is a bit much. If he's honest, it's not what he wants, either.

“So what do you think I should do?”

Kurt sighs and lies back. “I think you should enjoy what we are doing right now and worry about everything else later. Or else I'm going to be insulted because you're already looking for my replacement.”

“As if anyone could replace you.”

 

He discovers the truth of that once he is back at work. While six months is long when you have to keep up a marriage you don't exactly want and have to act in love all the time, it's rather short when you are trying to plan a lesson schedule for the next year. He is trying to find someone to take over dance when Mike and Brittany are gone. So far, all the candidates have proven unsatisfactory, but at least he only has to find a substitute for six months. When it's Kurt's time to leave, however...He shudders. He doesn't even want to think of it. Though Kurt has only been there a short time and has filled a position that wasn't even officially open, he's made himself essential to the running of the foundation. He does all the things Blaine didn't even know were missing before, but are a noticeable improvement he wouldn't like to give up. And he can't even plan too much ahead, can't interview candidates or even make known that a position might be open, because they can't let anyone know about the divorce until it's happening. Santana knows everything going on here, and he can't attempt to fill a position that won't be free until Kurt leaves without her knowing that something's wrong.

He rubs his temples, trying to stave off a beginning headache. He doesn't have to think about it just yet, but there's not too much time either. Not if he wants to have a smooth transition.

He sighs. Who is he kidding. Even if he'll somehow manage to find a replacement for the foundation and have everything work out, there'll never be a smooth transition for him. Kurt is such a big part of his life now, in a way it seems Sebastian never was. He's there at work, he's part of Blaine's group of friends. The apartment clearly has Kurt's stamp on it. He can shove papers around here in his office as much as he likes, there is no denying it will be hard when Kurt leaves.

Now though, there's a sharp rap on his office door and Kurt walks in.

“So, I talked to the kids about the play, and we agreed on doing _Grease_. There are enough good roles, and I know it well enough so we should be able to pull it off before I leave.”

“Great,” Blaine says, mood even darker because of the unnecessary reminder. “The play where the girl changes her whole personality for a boy.”

Kurt shakes his head. “We're doing the version where she's only acting so wholesome because of her parents.”

“So he liberates her to be her true self? Even better.”

“O-kay,” Kurt says. “I think I'll leave until there's talking to you again.”

Now Blaine's feeling guilty, of course.

“Kurt?” he calls when the door is nearly closed. “I'm sorry.”

The door opens again. Kurt comes back and sits on Blaine's desk, facing Blaine.

“Why the bad mood?” he asks.

Blaine shrugs. “Do you...do you think you'll come visit from time to time?” he blurts out, despite having decided not to talk about it.

“Well, if we have an amicable divorce, we can of course stay friends. I'll come here, and you can visit me in New York.” Kurt grins. “We could even keep having sex until you find someone else.”

There is no one else, Blaine thinks. He pulls Kurt's head down to him and kisses him, and Kurt kisses back, and soon Kurt's slides sown from the desk on Blaine's lap, and they're making out like teenagers, in the middle of the day in Blaine's office with the door shut, but not locked. Blaine puts his hands on Kurt's ass to pull him closer so maybe they can go from making out to something else (he'll skip lunch if he has to, the work will get done somehow) when a voice says,

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Blaine's heart jumps, but as they pull apart, he sees it's only Santana. He never would have thought he'd think “only Santana” in any context at all, but for a moment he's thought it's his mom. So he just slides his hands form Kurt's ass to his back and smiles at Santana.

“Ever heard about knocking?” he asks.

“And all the crap you gave me when I kissed Brit goodbye in the hallway once!”

“Her hands were on your boobs, and you were biting her neck. That's not kissing goodbye.”

“You were just envious because you were not getting any.”

Suddenly she comes to them and pinches Blaine's cheek. “I'm so proud of you! Go get it, boys!”

Then she leaves. A second later, however, she opens the door, again without knocking.

“Why I was coming in in the first place: your grandma's here. I'll distract her for a few minutes so your boners have time to go down.”

 

When Jan finally comes in, they are sitting at the little visitors' table in the corner of the office. They've fixed each others' hair and rightened their clothes, but Blaine fears their lips are still overly red, and just hopes she doesn't ask why Kurt is grinning. (Kurt has squeezed his cock once before letting go off him, making sure it was that much harder for Blaine to compose himself, and he's still smug about it).

“Now, I don't want you to get your hopes up too much,” Jan says after they've said hello. “It will certainly still take some time, but maybe your divorce can be finalized sooner than expected.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of teenage pregnancy and miscarriage

He's not ready. He's...not ready. Not ready to lose Kurt, to lose the easy friendship and the support and—yes—the really good sex. He's aware he's just learning to value himself as a person again, but it's too early to do it on his own. He needs Kurt. He _needs_ Kurt.

He resists the impulse to stick his fingers into his ear and start singing.

Kurt, on the other hand, seems....interested. He's leaning forward, forearms resting on his legs as he sits and asks, with an expression that doesn't show even a hint of what he is feeling,

“How?”

Blaine is, childishly, trying not to listen, but he can't help it. He is curious as to how such a seemingly hopeless task could be accomplished, even though, to be honest, he's not so eager to have it accomplished anymore. He's very comfortable in his life with Kurt. He likes his life with Kurt, he likes Kurt. Maybe, he muses, it doesn't always have to be a great romance, but his musings are interrupted when Jan speaks.

“I don't know if you know, Kurt, that Blaine has a quite extensive family. Most of them he has never met, because my son decided to walk out on his wife and son and so robbed himself of every chance to get to know the wonderful, wonderful young man that Blaine was going to become.”

Blaine blushes and is even more determined not to listen. He wonders if he is sorry that he doesn't know his father's side of the family, save for his nonna. Probably not. He knows his mother would have liked him to get a job in one of the family's firms. She would have even gone as far to talk to his dad for it, had Blaine done the right thing and used his business degree for anything profitable. He knows they are a mob, in a way, keen to keep the money and the prestige and everything they own within the family, without any regard for talent or inclination.

“So,” Jan continues, “I've been watching if there is someone who is influential in the family who might have created a precedence we could argue with if we fought for Blaine to get divorced and still keep the money. Up to now, there isn't. The Andersons seem to have been either blessed with their spouses, or else with incredible power of endurance. Always excepting my own son, who to be fair, was neither of these things.”

That's true. Blaine's mom can't have been a “blessing” as a wife, but his dad also hadn't even tried to make things work, and as far as Blaine knows, he's also never held a job for more than a few months. Though Blaine doesn't know if that's because he can't, or because that's the way he likes it.

“And now?” Kurt asks. Jan digs in her bag and pulled out a photo that she lays on the table. It shows a smiling couple at what is obviously a high school prom. The girl's dress does nothing to conceal a small baby bump.

“Blaine, let me introduce your cousin Angelica and her boyfriend. Her father is one of the most influential lawyers in one of the family firms, and as he is also rather conservative, the kids got married a few days after graduation. Unfortunately, a few weeks after the wedding, Angelica lost the baby.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, which is the first thing he's said since Jan started her story.

“So now there are two very young people, married without anything to tie them together,” Kurt says.

He's a lot faster to make this conclusion than Blaine, who is still pondering the question if in Angelica's place, he would be devastated or relieved. Both, probably.

“Exactly,” Jan says. “Now of course it could be that they hold on for a few years, try to make it work although they have nothing in common except too much free time and little to no sex ed. But if you ask me, I think they'll get bored in a month and will opt for a quiet divorce. Angelica's father, who is, I believe, a nephew of mine, will do whatever he can to make sure his little girl will not lose her inheritance over one mistake. If he finds a way out, we can use that for you two as well.”

“That's a lot of ifs,” Blaine says hopefully. “We're depending on a lot of things happening that we have no influence over.”

Kurt nods to his words, and Jan shrugs

. “You're right,” she says. “But it's what we have, and honestly, it's more I had hoped for.”

She gathers the picture and her other things, and rises. “You're doing good, otherwise. Blaine's mom called me in outrage, talking about hickeys and sex. “ She laughs. “I really would have liked to be there when she had that conversation with you. Keep that up, for a while at least. If she is angry, chances are that the Anderson mob will be happy. But otherwise, you can start thinking about what you'll tell everyone when you're divorced.”

 

“Well,” Kurt says when she had left, leaning back in his chair. “She didn't say how long it will take, but it seems I should be a little faster in making my mind up about what I want to do career-wise.”

Blaine nods. He doesn't really listen, because there's a thought in his head that won't be denied no matter how much he wants to. He really doesn't want to do what the thought says is best, but the thought is very insistent, and probably right. He sighs.

“What is it?” Kurt asks.

Blaine shakes his head.

“Blaine. We've always been honest with each other.”

They have. From the moment Blaine drunkenly cried on Kurt's shoulder, they have been honest with each other. He sighs again.

“I think we should stop having sex,” he says.

Kurt's smile flickers and vanishes. “I already noticed you don't believe in enjoying something as long as it lasts,” he says.

Blaine shakes his head. “I'm just trying not to get hurt,” he says. “I can't...I can't afford to get so used to you, so comfortable with you, when you'll leave in the end.”

He doesn't want to change the way the apartment looks, and he won't take Kurt away from the foundation. What he does is good for the kids and, Blaine believes, good for Kurt as well. He won't take that from him. Sex is the only thing that remains to wean him from Kurt.

“But it was clear from the start that I'll leave at some point. Where's the difference if it's two or three months earlier?”

“I'm sorry,” Blaine says. He couldn't be more sorry, actually. “I'm just trying to get used to how it will be without you.”

“Alright,” Kurt says and rises. “Just one thing. I didn't sign up to be your...sexual awakening or whatever. You're stringing me along. I'm not someone to come and go at your convenience. Contrary to appearances, I am a human being with feelings, and you're hurting me.”

Blaine stares after him as he leaves, wincing as the door closes softly. Kurt doesn't slam doors. He doesn't show much of what he's feeling except during sex and when he's singing. If he hadn't said it, Blaine would never have known he had hurt him. He doesn't think much about Kurt at all, he realizes. Not about what he might want or need, at least. That he is, indeed, not someone sent to help him break from Sebastian and be his own person again.

Blaine blinks. During his time with Sebastian, during everything, despite the way he thought of himself as inadequate, he has always had the moral high ground. He is used to thinking of himself as the one being hurt, not the one doing the hurting.

He stands up, gathers his things, and leaves work.

 

When Kurt gets home, Blaine has the table set, and dinner is almost ready. He's done the best he can, and though he says so himself, it's good. He just hopes Kurt likes it as well.

“What's this?” Kurt asks, standing in the doorway.

Blaine gestures awkwardly. “It's meant to be an apology dinner.”

Maybe it's too romantic? Maybe he should have left the candles, or the flowers?

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean for it to look like a date, I...I'm not trying to string you along, really...”

“No, it's fine,” Kurt says, smiling a little sadly. “Of course it's not a date. This is...nice.”

“Please sit,” Blaine says, pulling out Kurt's chair. “Dinner'll be ready in a minute.”

As they eat, they are silent. Blaine thinks about what he wants to say, but what can he say to make it better?

“I'm sorry,” he says finally. “I really didn't mean to hurt you. I realize I haven't been fair to you, first saying we can't have sex, then saying we can, then again we can't. I've...I'm afraid I've only been thinking about what is right for me, not for you.”

“Well,” Kurt says with a wry smile. “I'm glad you've started to think about what's right for you. But then, I have to think about what's right for me, and I'm telling you that if you're serious, then that's it. No more changing your mind. We'll be friends, but we won't have sex.”

Ever again, Blaine's mind helpfully supplies. He swallows, then nods hesitantly. He feels like he's losing something, but it's only sex. It won't be that bad. And anyway, it's only for a few months. After Kurt's gone, he can try to find the right guy, someone he can do all the things with he's dreamed about doing with Sebastian.

Somehow, the thought doesn't help.

He resists the urge to apologize again, then tries to think of something else to talk about, something to take his mind from the fact that he's just signed away something that has helped to make him as happy as he's rarely been, out of fear. Fear that Kurt will make himself irreplaceable In his life, that it will be ever so much harder for Blaine to get used to Kurt not being there anymore, when the time comes. And apparently, the time will come earlier than anticipated.

They finish their dinner, talking about everyday things, trying to be friendly and relaxed as usual, but not quite managing. Even when they are in bed, it's somehow tense, although nothing is different. Kurt hasn't suddenly decided to sleep on the couch, or make Blaine sleep on the couch. But as he's staring at Kurt's back, Blaine thinks that there is something standing between them that wasn't there before, and though he regrets losing their familiarity, maybe that isn't so bad. Because, he thinks as he is about to fall asleep, because if he's really honest, the real reason he put an end to sex with Kurt is that he's scared to fall in love with him.

And being in love with Kurt, and then inevitably losing Kurt, would be worse than everything Sebastian has ever done.

Nevertheless, he dreams about kissing Kurt.


	15. Chapter 15

Blaine wants to kick himself for ever making that suggestion. The last few weeks have been... awkward. Blaine tries to act like nothing has happened, and Kurt does too, but...it's not the same. They're still friends, but the easiness is gone. It's like with taking away the sex, the familiarity is gone, too. And every now and then, Kurt makes a remark that is either resigned or downright mean, so that Blaine stops whatever he is doing for a moment and looks at Kurt like he doesn't know him at all.

He knows he has hurt Kurt. He has apologized, but he is aware that has probably not quite cut it. Hurt feelings can't and shouldn't be buried just like that, he gets that. But.

Blaine doesn't know what to do. He also doesn't quite understand Kurt. They were friends before they started having sex; surely they can be friends after they have stopped? He understands why Kurt is upset. He doesn't understand why Kurt is that upset. He apologizes every time after a remark that was really mean—and he knows Blaine well enough that they hit where it hurts—but that doesn't change the fact that he makes them in the first place. That for a moment, he wanted to hurt Blaine.

 

Kurt comes to him with a cup of coffee one morning before work. That hasn't happened a while, and Blaine is cautiously hopeful. Maybe they'll work it out, after all.

“I want to ask your permission to tell Rachel of the nature of our marriage,” Kurt says, the words sounding formal and as if he had practiced them.

“I need to talk to her about something, and I can only do that if she knows.” He smiles wryly. “She won't tell anyone. I have my ways to get her to be quiet.”

Kurt's posture is rigid despite the smile, his hands clenched into fists, and Blaine knows better than to ask what he wants to talk to her about.

“Anything,” he says. “Whatever you want.” He trusts Kurt. If he says Rachel will be quiet, she will be quiet.

“Thanks,” Kurt says, and then sits there, balancing his coffee on his knees, silent.

Blaine tries to think of something to say before Kurt makes up his mind to stand up and leave him to go to work by himself.

“Oh! Rachel,” he says. It's actually a good thought. He's wanted to talk about that, so it's not just to keep Kurt talking to him, and it's even a segue.

“I've wanted to talk to you about her. She's not happy here, and I've been trying to think of ways to get her back on the stage where she belongs.”

Kurt looks at him, surprised. “She's not unhappy,” he says.

“Maybe not,” Blaine replies. “But she needs to perform, you know that. She needs to be on a stage, and she needs to sing in front of critics and producers who can get her back into business. So I've been thinking, maybe she could sing a song as an opening to _Grease_ -”

Kurt shakes his head. “Not before _Grease_. She'd know something was up, because there's no reason for her to sing then. And I think it has to be more innocent, without her suspecting anything, or else she'll be too nervous and refuse to go up. She thinks her performing career is over, you know? Also, it would be unfair to the kids. They're great, all of them, but they're no Rachel.”

Blaine nods. “But what then?”

“Something with other performers, where she is just one of many. Usually, she doesn't like that so much, but for this purpose, it would be perfect. And, not to brag, but if I were one of the other performers, I think it would help bring the right people here.”

Blaine's smile is impossibly wide. “A holiday concert, for fundraising or charity. Christmas is close enough that you should still be here, and far enough away to give us time to organize and rehearse.”

All awkwardness is gone as they set to planning, and Blaine realizes with great enjoyment that this is a really good idea. It's not only good for Rachel, it's good for the foundation, too, and if it helps Kurt and him to get back to being friends, all the better.

“But who else?” he wonders.

Kurt gives him a look. “You run a whole building full of performers. Surely you can find someone.”

Blaine grins. “Yes, but...Mike and Brittany will be gone by then. Mercedes would be great, and if we can find a way to blackmail or bribe Santana, she has a great voice too. Is that enough?”

“You're forgetting the obvious.”

“Who?”

“You.” “Oh, no. No. I haven't performed in ages. There's no way I could compete with any of you. Also, I'd be way too nervous.”

“We wouldn't be competing,” Kurt points out. “You have a great voice, and if it helps with the nervousness—well, I'd love to sing a duet with you.”

Blaine groans inwardly. How can he say no to a duet with Kurt? Looking at Kurt, he knows there's no getting out of it.

He sighs, but can't help the smile. “Okay. But, wait, isn't Rachel Jewish?”

Kurt nods. “She doesn't celebrate Christmas, but that has never kept her from singing the songs.”

 

They spend a few minutes prematurely pondering songs, but then Kurt shakes his head.

“What?” Blaine asks, scared he has changed his mind. As little as he wants to stand up on a stage—no, who is he kidding. He's scared, but he is also really excited to get to perform, and he is really looking forward to singing with Kurt.

“I was just wondering whether you realize that this will likely end in Rachel leaving the foundation,” Kurt says.

“I know,” Blaine says with a shrug. “It's what I'm hoping for. I don't want to lose her, but she belongs on a stage. She'll never be really happy here.”

Kurt stares at him. It's not a bad stare, but it's unsettling to Blaine.

“What?” he asks.

Kurt smiles. “That's....really nice of you.”

Blaine shrugs again. “I just...I want her to be happy. I never want to hurt anyone.”

He winces. Kurt is bound to say something now, something along the lines of him being really unsuccessful about that. He's walked right into that.

But Kurt merely smiles, and stands up. He takes Blaine's cup and nudges him.

“Come on, let's go to work,” he says.

Then, to Blaine's surprise, he kisses him on the cheek.

 

Blaine's resulting good mood dies a slow agonizing death when he finds the answering machine in his office full with messages of “concerned parents”, who find some of the casting choices for _Grease_ “questionable.” Which is their right, of course, and it's not like it hasn't happened before—parents tend to think only the lead would do justice to the talents of their son or daughter. He gets it. It's theater—why should the drama be limited to the stage? But this time it's different. Someone asks why he has given one of the few good female roles to a boy, and he frowns. He doesn't think Kurt would do this. In most plays, interesting female roles are scarce, while there are usually more good male roles than actors to play them. It takes a few messages until he deduces that Kurt must have given the role of Rizzo to Unique Adams, a very talented trans girl. He sighs. He approves the choice. She'll bring the fierceness and the anger the role demands, and her voice is great. But a heads-up would have been nice, so he could have thought of some kind of strategy to appease people. This is the arts, but it's also Ohio.

He settles on ignoring the calls for the moment, hoping that for once, a problem might just go away if he does nothing about it. Anyway, it's not like he's going to change the casting. So he does a lot of nothing, very determinedly not trying to go and find Kurt and Rachel to eavesdrop on the conversation he knows they're having. He also admittedly doesn't try very hard not to eavesdrop. So, later, when he's leaving the restroom and they are walking past without noticing him, stopping by the coffee machine on the way, he steps back into the shadows. It's not his fault, really, when he hears a part of their conversation.

“...tell him!” he hears Rachel say.

“I can't, no way,” Kurt says. “He's totally oblivious about it. And can you imagine how awkward it would be if he didn't....And even if he did, there's still the other problem. It's...it'll be better soon. Just, at the moment, I'm having a hard time. I'm being a jerk to him without reason, or at least, none that he can see...But talking to you helps.”

They're leaving, coffee in hand, to their respective classes, and Blaine is still standing in front of the restroom, more confused than before. Was it him they had been talking about? It had too, hadn't it? Or maybe it's arrogance to think that Kurt could have no one else to occupy his thoughts. On the other hand, it's maybe safe to assume that if Kurt wanted to tell Rachel about their marriage, he's probably thinking about Blaine and not somebody else.

It doesn't help. He's trying to compose a statement concerning Unique's casting to post on their website, but nothing seems right. It’s hard to write something coherent when really all he wants to tell people is to please not make a big deal out of something that isn't, and when the questions that really concern him are what it is that Kurt won't tell him. What he's being oblivious about, and what the other problem is.

In the end, he doesn't post a statement, reasoning that if he won't treat it as a big thing, maybe other people will stop, too. He tells himself that what Kurt doesn't say is none of his business, that instead, he should enjoy the new found harmony between them.

It works somewhat. They walk home together, holding hands, Kurt talking animatedly about the start of rehearsals, Blaine trying to listen and not be too obviously distracted. At home, they eat dinner and watch something Blaine lets Kurt choose because he knows he won't be able to focus anyway.

He wonders if he has done something he isn't aware of, if it is something he can fix.

As they start getting ready for bed, Blaine hoping that maybe tonight Kurt won't turn away as soon as his head hits the pillow, there's a knock on the door. They nearly don't answer. It's late, they don't expect anyone, and it's easy to tell themselves that it's just some sound, but there's a second knock a moment later, more insistent. They share a look, and Blaine goes to open the door.

“Sebastian,” he says.


	16. Chapter 16

“What do you want?” Blaine asks. He resigns to Sebastian just pushing the door open and coming inside; he's never been one to wait till he's invited.

“Well. You've redecorated,” Sebastian says, looking around the room, and Blaine suddenly feels the apartment has been...contaminated, in a way. Sebastian had never seen it in its present form, Blaine had been free of him here, and now that's over. He feels the need for a ritual cleansing afterwards, or maybe moving. But that's just him being overdramatic.

“What do you want?” Kurt repeats, much more impatiently than Blaine.

“I've come to take Blaine home, of course,” Sebastian says. His gaze softens as he looks at Blaine. “I think we've made a mistake, babe. Martin's not want I want. We've always been so good together. Come back.”

Blaine is speechless. His mouth stands open, and he closes it. He still can find no words. Kurt, however, can.

“Blaine is at home,” he says, his voice so cold that Blaine would fear to be frozen over were the words directed at him. “Blaine is also married, to me, in case you had forgotten.”

“Why would I even come back to you?” Blaine asks. He's ashamed to hear his voice tremble. He's also ashamed to see Kurt has come to him, standing half a step in front of him. Still, he takes his hand.

“You always did before,” Sebastian says.

Which is true. But it won't be true this time. Whatever happens with Kurt, he won't go back to Sebastian. He's over that for good.

So he takes a step forward, standing at Kurt's side, but not letting go of his hand. He will let himself be supported, but he won't let himself be talked over.

“I'm not coming back,” he says. His voice is strong and sure, thank God, and he is even able to look Sebastian in the eyes, even if he is aware that he is probably crushing Kurt's hand.

“Kurt and I are married, this is our home. You need to leave.”

“Babe,” Sebastian says. “You don't know what you're talking about. We belong together. We'll always belong together.”

“There was a time I believed this,” Blaine says. “You never acted like you did. And now...I want to make this very clear. Whatever happens with Kurt and I, I won't be coming back to you. We're over.”

“You did this.” Sebastian takes a threatening step towards Kurt. “You made him like this. He never was like this.”

“You mean he never stood up for himself before,” Kurt says. “It must be a pain to know you can't walk all over him anymore.”

Blaine can see that Sebastian is pissed. They didn't used to fight much when they were together, mostly because Blaine always did his utmost to avoid confrontation. But the few times they did, when it got really bad, Sebastian looked like he does now. Blaine recognizes the look. He also recognizes something else. Sebastian has never gone as far as to actually hit him, but he threw china a few times. There's no china here for him to throw, and Blaine guesses he will probably have fewer inhibitions when it comes to hitting Kurt.

He takes a step forward just as Sebastian swings for Kurt.

 

“I can't believe that bastard actually hit you,” Kurt says, pressing an ice pack on Blaine's eye that's already starting to swell.

“Well, to be precise, he tried to hit you.” Blaine winces at the cold, but then sighs as it starts to lessen the pain.

Kurt had unceremoniously pushed Sebastian out, ignoring his reluctant apologies and the way he had wanted to fuss over Blaine. And then Kurt had started to fuss over Blaine.

Blaine's not going to lie: it feels good. His eye hurts, and he can feel a massive headache coming on, but being fussed over by Kurt...feels good.

Kurt nods. “I can't believe you did that. I mean, stepping in the way. Did you...did you know that he's try to punch me?”

“Not with absolute certainty. But I guessed he would.”

“Well...thank you.” Kurt sounds flustered.

“He's my ex. It seems only fair that I'd be the one he'd hit.”

Suddenly, Kurt's lips are on his, and not just for a peck, either. Blaine kisses back after a second of surprise, instinctively, without thinking. But somehow he knows this is right. Despite everything, it feels right, and he's not about to throw away a chance of things going back to normal again. Still, he has to make sure.

“Aren't we...changing our minds...again?” The kiss has gone on long enough that he is panting a little, and somehow he is stretched out on the floor with Kurt on top of him.

“I don't seem to mind,” Kurt says. “Do you?”

He's smiling, but the question is concerned. After all, it was Blaine who first started that whole 'no sex' rule.

“No, somehow I don't,” Blaine says, and pulls Kurt down for more kissing.

Maybe he can do it after all. Enjoy things as long as they last, without getting too broken-hearted when they are over. Maybe it doesn't mean he'll fall in love. They're friends, and the sex is good, and maybe that can be enough.

Can't it?

Soon, kissing isn't enough anymore, and without further questions or hesitations, they undress each other as far as needed for their purpose. They sixty-nine right there on the couch. Most other things would just take too much time and preparation. It's awkward and rushed. Blaine almost falls off the couch at some point, and Kurt gets poked in the eye by Blaine's cock. They laugh, and fumble, and swear to never have sex on the couch again. In the end, though, they get off, and it's pretty good.

Then, at last, they go to bed. Blaine is still glowing from his much-needed orgasm that has even managed to stave off the impending headache, and pleasantly tired and ignoring the pain around his eye, he soon falls asleep.

 

He wakes up, as it seems, not too much later. At first he's disoriented and doesn't know why he woke up, but them he can hear the unfamiliar noises that are probably responsible for that. There's heavy breathing beside him, and what sounds like suppressed sobs. He turns on the lamp on the bedside table. Kurt is lying curled together, his back turned towards Blaine, his shoulders trembling. Blaine puts a tentative hand on his back, making Kurt flinch.

“Kurt?” Blaine asks. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Kurt says. His voice breaks, making him a liar. “I'm sorry, I should have...I'm okay.”

He stands up and walks out of the room, leaving Blaine behind not knowing what to do. It's clear that Kurt had been crying—is still crying, most probably—but it is also clear that he doesn't want to talk about it.

Kurt is so private about these things, much more private than Blaine. He certainly wouldn't bother a near total stranger with his personal problems, not even drunk. And apparently, he won't even tell his husband about them.

Blaine knows him well enough by now that he knows it would be no use to go out after him. Kurt will talk to him when he wants to or, more probable, not at all. Pushing him would only result in closing him up completely.

The knowledge doesn't help. He's miserable lying there, not able to help, but also not able to go back to sleep. Although, probably not as miserable as Kurt, who hasn't come back.

He gets up, takes Kurt's comforter, and goes into the living room. Kurt is sitting on the couch, knees drawn up to his chest. He's not crying anymore, but staring into space, which isn't much better as far as Blaine is concerned.

Clearing his throat so Kurt won't be startled, Blaine walks to the couch and puts the comforter around Kurt's shoulders. It's only a few weeks to Christmas, after all, and the nights can get cold even in their cozy living room.

“Thanks,” Kurt says quietly.

Suddenly, Blaine is nervous. “I didn't...I mean, you know you can come back to bed, right? If you want to?”

Kurt laughs weakly. “I know. Thank you.” He sounds weary.

Blaine just stands there for a few seconds, feeling awkward. “Okay,” he says then. “I'll just...I'll just go to bed then.”

Kurt just nods, but when Blaine after a little hesitation turns to go, he says, “Blaine? I'm okay, I promise.”

 

He is, the next morning, or at least seems to be. Blaine has his doubts, but there's nothing he can do, so he goes along with it and just does his best to take care of Kurt in any way he can.

Kurt hails him as a hero at work when the impressive shiner he has gets admired. It makes him uncomfortable somehow. He doesn't feel like a hero when Kurt has cried the same night, and he is somehow sure that it had to do with him. When Kurt should never have violence directed at him in the first place. When even days later, Kurt is quieter and sad, though he does his best to conceal it.

They have a farewell party for Mike and Brittany, who are leaving for their tour, and a drunk and hysterically crying Santana spends the night at their place, and they take turns to try and convince her that Brittany will still love her when she gets back in six months.

Blaine has difficulties with the concept of 'six months later'. Because then, Kurt will be gone. The day he's dreading will have come and gone, and he can't even imagine how his life will be without him. Up until some time ago, he realizes, he had managed to take Kurt's time here with him as it was: a temporary arrangement. His time with Kurt was a liminality, a transition between his old life with Sebastian and the shiny though vague future he had envisioned for himself.

At some point, that had changed. He doesn't know when, but now, he can't even imagine a future without Kurt, neither for the foundation nor for himself.

He is just a little drunk himself, and at some point, he gives up and just cries with Santana while Kurt looks at them with bemusement.

 

Then it's only a few short weeks until Christmas, and their charity concert is scheduled and Blaine and Kurt both have used their contacts to make sure the right people will be there. Artie will probably be able to film. Rachel, Mercedes and Santana have agreed to perform, and the kids are rehearsing a group number the teachers aren't supposed to know about. They organize everything on top of rehearsing their duet and the solo number Kurt will do, and the song they'll sing together with Rachel and Mercedes.

They are insanely busy, and Kurt even had to admit defeat and put the _Grease_ rehearsals on hold for the moment.

But every night without failure, Kurt turns toward Blaine in their bed, and Blaine clings to him as they kiss


	17. Chapter 17

“Has anyone ever literally died on stage?” Blaine asks, pacing backstage.

“Molière, I think,” Kurt says, grinning, himself of course a picture of absolute serenity. “Why, are you nervous?”

“It's been a while, okay?” Blaine snaps. He's running on about three hours of sleep and a lot of caffeine, having spent last night tossing and turning, imagining press articles on how the founder of the Warbler Foundation is completely untalented himself and should never be allowed close to an artist ever again, for fear of pollution. A nightmare about standing on stage, all lights on him, and not getting out a single note, hasn't helped his confidence.

He has to go up in one and a half songs. At the moment, Mercedes is singing All I want for Christmas is You, and though Love Actually has sort of spoiled the song for Blaine, he can't deny she sounds great. After that, Mercedes and Rachel will sing a duet, and then it's his turn.

He stops pacing when Kurt puts a hand on his shoulder. “You'll be fine. We rehearsed the songs a million times, we can do them in our sleep, We sound great. You know that.”

Blaine nods, and then hugs Kurt and buries his face in Kurt's shoulder. Kurt holds him close for a moment, and then takes his hand and pulls him to a slightly more secluded corner in the backstage area.

“What are you doing?” Blaine whispers. He can't be that far from the stage, he'll miss his cue, he'll be late -

“Distracting you,” Kurt says, and then his lips are on Blaine's. Blaine overcomes his surprise in less than a second and kisses back, reminding himself sharply to keep his hands away from Kurt's hair and clutching his arms instead.

The distraction works. They completely miss the duet, and they almost miss getting on stage on time if it weren't for Santana, who drags them out of their corner with an expression that promises they will be mocked for that for a long time.

Then they are on stage. Hair and makeup is okay, and if their lips show that they've just made out for five minutes, hopefully no one in the audience will see. Once he is on stage, all trace of stage fright is gone completely, and he remembers why he always loved performing. It's easy to forget that love in the stress of rehearsal, but nothing compares to the feeling when he's finally in the spotlight again, all eyes on him, basking in the applause. Or, well. He looks at Kurt—almost nothing.

They sing _Favorite Things_ with Rachel and Mercedes, and then _Baby it's Cold Outside_ just the two of them. They do their best to make it sound less creepy than the original, the reason they succeed being, Blaine thinks, mostly because they don't sound like one of them is twice the other's age. But mostly, it's meant like a tiny little finger to the kind of people that object to Unique's casting as Rizzo. Having them come to a wholesome Christmas concert and then have two guys sing a flirty duet is a subtle kind of revenge, but fun nonetheless, and hopefully not enough to lose a lot of sponsors.

He doesn't forget the lyrics, their harmonies are fine, and the applause in the end is deafening. Blaine is grinning as he returns backstage after his part is done, and he thinks he might start performing more again should the opportunity arise.

Then he doesn't think about anything anymore, because Kurt has stayed back on stage and starts the next song, and as always when Kurt is singing, Blaine forgets everything around him. There is only Kurt and his voice, and Blaine silently walks closer to the stage so that he can see at least his profile. His voice is as angelic as his looks, and though his personality is sometimes...less so, Blaine would only be bored by anyone less challenging. And beneath the prickliness, Kurt is the most moral and compassionate person he knows, and he is just right for him.

He just loves it when he sings. He just loves him.

Oh.

He feels himself smiling slowly. He stares with wonder at Kurt, and recognizes with equal amazement the feelings inside him that have been there, he is sure, for quite some time.

He is overwhelmingly happy.

It is by no means certain that everything will turn out well. There's a good chance that Kurt doesn't return his feelings. He might end up alone and heartbroken.

But for the moment, he just enjoys the feelings that, not so long ago, he had believed dead forever.

 

All too soon, Kurt's song ends, and Blaine smiles at him as he returns backstage and feels his heart take a leap when Kurt smiles back. That feeling isn't so unfamiliar, and inwardly, he shakes his head at himself.

Of course he is in love with Kurt. He should have realized long ago. His reaction to him can't be explained away with familiarity and attraction. He should have realized at least at the panic he had felt at the thought of Kurt leaving.

He can't resist taking Kurt's hand and squeezing. He doesn't let go of his hand afterwards, and he can feel Kurt's eyes on him, but he doesn't look back. He knows he would betray himself.

He will tell Kurt, and soon. He is terrified, but in a few weeks, Kurt will leave if he doesn't act. Of course, Kurt might still leave, but if there is even a chance he might stay if he knows...Blaine will take that.

But at the moment, the kids are singing _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ as a goodbye wish for the audience, and afterwards, they have to go schmoozing, make sure their little concert has the intended outcome. There's a job to do, but later, at home, he will tell Kurt he's in love with him.

Oh God.

 

At the small reception after the concert, Blaine walks around as is his job, talking to people. He hasn't really had a chance to talk to Kurt, which is good in a way. He doesn't want him to see something in him and then be confused the whole time until they get home. He also can't afford to get too distracted, which he definitely would be because even so, he can feel himself getting moon-eyed when he just sees Kurt from across the room.

He sees Rachel talking to some pretty big producers and smiles. He has no doubt she is highly sought after and getting roles offered right and left; her rendition of _Oh Holy Night_ was breathtaking.

He will miss her.

But it is all for the best, she'll be where she belongs, and he'll be alright. They'll have to make sure she'll take an offer and not stay out of a misplaced sense of obligation, but Kurt has assured him that that most probably won't be a problem. She'll apologize, thank him for everything he's done, and then saunter off with a big smile on her face.

He subtly recommends her to people as he walks around, though he's sure it's not necessary. He also deflects any compliments he gets on his own performance to Kurt; after all, it's not him who is looking for a new career. He might want to perform more in the future, but he's sure he'll have plenty of opportunities here. Kurt, on the other hand...oh.

Even if Kurt should return his feelings, at some point he will want to leave and do whatever it is he wants to do, when he's done figuring it out. Blaine has no doubt it will not be staying in Westerville and helping him put on productions with talented high schoolers, most of whom will probably end up being accountants or real estate agents instead of performers.

Kurt is no teacher. He's a performer who doesn't know where to go, and so he's ended up with Blaine, with the foundation. But at some point, he will leave again, as they all do, as it should be. Blaine knows that. It's what he does, or part of it; offer a place to performers with nowhere to go, and when after a time his teachers, his friends, leave for brighter and better things, it's all for the best. It has never bothered him before.

It does bother him now.

But that doesn't mean it's not the right thing to do.

He shouldn't tell Kurt. It's not right to hold him back, he's not meant to be a small town arts teacher, he's meant to be a star. At some point, he will have figured out what he wants to do, and then he should be free to go where he has to, and not be tethered to his accidental husband.

Who is in love with him.

Blaine takes a few deep breaths. The joy he felt before has completely evaporated. It hadn't been depending on Kurt loving him back, but somehow it had depended on being able to tell him. And he can't do that, can't do anything that might hold him back here when he wants to go.

He is in love with Kurt. But he knows, too, that love isn't always enough, and more importantly, that it goes away.

There will be a time when he won't be in love with Kurt anymore. Until that time comes, he will just have to fake a smile until it becomes real.

So he does, keeps his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking, and bids people goodbye. Thankfully, the reception is coming to a close, the kids are already starting to clean up under Santana's watchful eyes and helpful comments about where they've forgotten something.

Kurt is standing in a corner, talking to Rachel, and Blaine halts his steps. He may find a way of coping when Kurt is gone, but he has no idea what he will do while he's still here. He will betray himself with every word, every movement of his face. So maybe he should tell Kurt after all. Just as something he should know, not as something that comes with any obligations or even expectations. Or hope.

He's started walking again, and he's now close enough that he can hear part of Kurt and Rachel's conversation.

“...do it?” Rachel asks, and Kurt nods.

“I don't want to,” he says, “but I can't stay. I can't bear it.”

Before Blaine has a chance to even ask himself what that might mean, he is discovered, and Kurt comes to him.

“Great show,” Blaine says, just to say something.

Kurt nods and smiles.

“Um,” he says, and stops smiling. “I...I hate to do this, but...but Sydney Carl has come to me after the show, you know, the producer? And he's offered me, he wants me for a series of concerts. I could sing whatever I wanted, within reason, and I could invite guests to perform with me. It's...it's practically a dream come true. Only, he wants me in New York for rehearsals and contract negotiations and everything by the end of next week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.


	18. Chapter 18

“Yes, yes, of course,” Blaine stammers. He summons a smile from somewhere, trying to look like he's happy for Kurt. He remembers Kurt saying that he enjoyed doing concerts, but feared nobody would want to listen to him if he wasn't on Broadway anymore. Getting the chance to do that - it's a great thing, and he should be happy for him.

He's trying.

But his heart drops in his chest, and he has difficulties holding back tears. So he just says,

“We'll talk about everything at home, okay?” and then, rudely, just goes away and hurries to his office. He closes the door and leans against it for a moment, then sits down in his chair and takes a few deep breaths.

Kurt has to go. It's a good thing. This is an amazing opportunity for him. And now Blaine only has to hide his feelings for a week instead of for months. It's all good.

Blaine presses the heels of his hand agaisnt his eyes and is annoyed when they come back wet, but at least he isn't really crying. He can't, no matter how much he'd like to (and he wouldn't, because all is good), because he can't go out there again all red-faced and bloated.

It shouldn't be a problem. He's very good at putting on a cheerful face even when he's feeling anything but. He's had his whole life to practice, with his mom, with Sebastian. He can do it.

He's taciturn on the way home, and once there, pleads exhaustion and goes straight to bed. It's the first time since Sebastian punched him that they don't do anything, don't kiss, don't even touch. Kurt doesn't say anything as he lies down beside Blaine. In his mind, he's probably already gone, Blaine thinks bitterly. And, well, if he's being bitter, he might as well be selfish for just a moment, and so he allows himself to think that, in fact, not all is well, not for him. He doesn't want Kurt to go, he wants their life just as it has been the last few weeks, with the addition of a love confession by preferably both of them, and the exclusion of nightly tears and the Damocles' sword of their divorce hanging over them.

He won't have that. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and in the dark, feels Kurt's hand reach for his. Holding it, he falls asleep.

 

“I'm sorry,” Kurt says the next morning, handing Blaine a coffee. “I know I'm kind of leaving you high and dry.”

“No, it's fine,” Blaine says. “It's an amazing opportunity, of course you have to take it. I'll get by.”

He tries for a nonchalant shrug and a smile. He's not sure he succeeds at either.

“I've thought about it,” Kurt says, “and I think I know how to best go about it. There's no need to say anything about getting divorced, not until we have further news from Jan. Like you said, it's a good opportunity for me, and it's not written anywhere that I'm not allowed to pursue my career while married to you.”

Blaine nods and takes a sip of his coffee. He doesn't taste anything. “I hope we've been good enough with the PDA and everything to satisfy the Anderson mob and convince them that you being in New York for the foreseeable future doesn't mean the end of our marriage.”

He's on autopilot, and in a way, he's proud of himself that he's able to sit here and talk and say reasonable things in complete sentences when all he really wants to do is curl up in a corner somewhere and cry, or else, fall down on his knees in front of Kurt and beg him not to leave.

At least he will be very convincing when it comes to missing Kurt, and he vows to take a weekend or so after Kurt is gone and just mope. He deserves that much. After that, he will act convincingly like someone who misses his husband but has no doubt whatsoever that his marriage can take a little distance without taking harm.

“If they do,” Kurt says, “tell me. Seriously, even though I'm away, you're not alone in this, okay?”

 

The week goes by quickly with preparations. Kurt is leaving extensive notes for _Grease_ , so it won't be a big pronblem for Blaine to oversee the production even though he doesn't have a lot of directing experience. Kurt apologizes to the kids for leaving them mid-rehearsals, and there are some tears, but, as he says, he trusts in their skills enough to know they can do this without him. They pack up Kurt's things, and as the apartment slowly loses its traces of Kurt, Blaine finds it harder to breathe. There is too much and too little of Kurt here now, just enough to remind him of Kurt and to remind him that he is gone, to never let him forget. He might have to move.

He goes through the week like a zombie, doing his work, trying his best to make the transition as smooth as possible for the foundation, helping Kurt pack, taking care not to feel. He'll take care of himself once everything is done. Though he has no idea how to do this.

Kurt takes a rental to the airport, declining to let Blaine make the drive. Blaine is secretly, ashamedly, relieved about it. He wouldn't have an idea about what to talk to Kurt about during the drive. They've kept conversation to technicalities the last few days. There has been enough to take care of that awkward silences rarely occurred, but they've been there in Blaine's mind nevertheless. He doesn't want their goodbye to be like this.

He helps Kurt load his luggage into the car, and then they stand there for a moment, looking at each other, saying nothing. Then Kurt pulls him close and kisses him briefly.

“I have enjoyed being your husband a lot more than I would have thought,” he says.

His eyes shine with tears, and Blaine knows he will remember the way he looks like for a long time.

“I'll miss you,” he allows himself to say. “I wish I could come see one of your concerts, but...”

He gestures helplessly.

“I know,” Kurt says. “You have a lot to do here with me leaving.”

He almost shakes his head. That's not it. He could make time. But he can't hear Kurt sing again, as a spectator and nothing more. He can hardly say that to Kurt, though, so he just smiles and hugs him once more.

“You'll be great,” he says.

Kurt nods, and smiles, and then he climbs into the car and drives away.

 

Blaine takes the weekend for himself. His fridge is stocked with ice cream and alcohol. He'll order pizza and plans this to be his only human interaction. He's planned to cry and mope and watch sad movies to help him cry and mope some more, so that he'll function again like a human being on Monday.

It doesn't quite work out.

After standing on the sidewalk with his hand in the air like an idiot, waving long after Kurt's car is gone, he goes inside and just feels numb, He doesn't want to cry, doesn't want pizza, doesn't want a movie. He fixes himself a sandwich and wanders around his apartment, looking at everything Kurt has done here that hasn't disappeared into boxes that will be collected over the next week. It's hard to overlook: the color of the walls. The new couch that has, he knows, a fortunately relatively hidden come stain on it that somehow won't come out. Curtains, cushions, kitchen things. All chosen by Kurt.

He knew it had been a bad idea.

Though it kind of comforts him that he'll have those things to remind him of Kurt.

And, good God, is he really that pathetic?

 

He falls asleep on the couch to the background noise of some reality show he hasn't even consciously selected.

He awakes at the sound of the doorbell ringing. Disoriented for a moment, he stands up and stretches, looks around until he can find his phone. It's already ten a.m., Saturday morning. At least he thinks so, unless he's a lot more disoriented than should be possible without alcohol. When he opens the door, there's Rachel, something that's not quite a smile on her face and her arms heavily loaded with what looks like donuts, coffee, and a bag full of even more ice cream and alcohol.

He had wanted to be alone, but maybe some company wouldn't be so bad after all. It's Rachel. They've complained to each other a lot of times, and she's the only one he can really talk to about this. Also, she brought food.

They don't talk much as they eat the donuts and drink their coffee. She ruffles his hair once, mocking his bed head, but he waves her away. He has no mind for hair styling today. It's the weekend, and he's...he's...he just doesn't feel like it.

“Do you want to talk?” she asks. He shakes his head. Later, when there is alcohol.

“Movie?” he suggests instead, and they sit on the couch and cuddle, a tub of ice cream and two spoons between them. In the middle of the second movie, Blaine gets a bottle of wine and two glasses. It's still only midday, but he doesn't care. He has nowhere to be, and a lot of reasons to drink, and he's not even drinking alone.

He puts his head on Rachel's shoulder, figuring that for once, she's in a much better place than him. After the concert, she's gotten four offers, two for supporting roles just like that, and two for auditions for lead roles. She went to audition the day before yesterday, and has already been called back for the lead in _Jane Austen_ _Sings_. He has no idea why Jane Austen should suddenly start singing, but he is happy for her.

 

“I'm in love with him,” he says at some point into the sound of an explosion happening on TV. It feels good to say it.

She nods and raises her glass to him in an ironic toast.

“You don't seem surprised.”

“The only reason,” she says slowly, “why people bought that story about the both of you falling in love and getting married in one and the same night is that you always looked the part. You've always looked at each other like the other has hung the moon, and you were so familiar with each other, so easy, that everyone just kind of took for granted you were meant for each other. Except your mom and maybe Sebastian.”

He nods and accepts that their acting skills have come back to bite him in the ass, but on the other hand it wouldn't change a thing for him now if nobody had believed them in the beginning. And maybe he hasn't been acting as much as he thought. He remembers numerous occasions where he looked at Kurt that way, and though he always thought it was gratitude, not love, it doesn't make a difference now.

Nothing does.

Not even -

“What about Kurt? Does he -”

“We're not talking about Kurt,” she says firmly. “He has his head as firmly lodged in his ass as you've got yours, and just like you, he doesn't know what he wants and sees difficulties everywhere. To be fair, not everything is simple, and I probably only know about half of what he feels. Or you, for that matter. But I'm not here for that. I'm here to eat ice cream and get drunk, so can we get back to that, please?”

He nods and takes a sip from his glass for emphasis, followed by a spoonful of ice cream. The tastes don't match well, and he grimaces.

After a moment, he asks, “Have you ever felt like you let go of the best thing that's ever happened to you?”

With a smile that's not as sad as it would have been, she says, “Well, I used to be Fanny Brice...”


	19. Chapter 19

The weeks go by, and to be honest..well, to be honest, Blaine is pretty miserable. He won't die of a broken heart just yet, but he also won't win any prizes on how to live a fulfilled life. He lives for his work, which is what he's always done when there's nothing else, and as always, it's almost enough.

Almost.

He spends Christmas with his mom, trying to ignore the looks and badly-hidden questions about the state of his marriage. He's polite, every bit the devoted son, telling the easy lies like he's always done. No, he isn't bullied at school. No, he doesn't mind his dad being gone. Yes, he's sure Sebastian isn't seeing other people. No, his marriage isn't over just because Kurt is gone.

Nothing from Kurt. He understands. It's not like he's writing either, or calling, or whatever. He's banned himself from the web sites he usually visits, because most of them are about Broadway, and he doesn't have to look to know that there will be a lot about Kurt. Announcements of the concerts, endless repetitions of Kurt's bio, maybe an interview, maybe even rehearsal videos. He doesn't want to see any of it.

The day after Kurt's first concert, he takes off from work. The kids will be talking about nothing but their former teacher, and they're all on social media and have probably found a live stream or a bootleg somewhere, and they'll want to show him, and he'll have to pretend to be happy and proud and he...he can't.

Rachel is gone now, too, having landed the role of Jane Austen in _Jane Austen Sings_ just as he predicted. She sent him a picture of herself in a lace cap, and it's about the only time he has laughed. But it means he has no one to talk to, so when he needs a break form all the cheerfully missing his husband and no, everything's fine, and yes, isn't he great, he goes to see Jan. Most of the time, they don't talk much. When Liz is there, they overfeed him with pastry and talk about how things used to be. When Liz isn't there, Jan overfeeds him with pastry and looks at him like she wants something from him. She doesn't volunteer any information about her progress on the divorce matter, and for a long time, he's okay with that.

But one day, he can't bear her looking at him like that anymore, and so he stuffs the last bit of muffin into his mouth and then asks,

“Any news about the divorce?”

She shrugs, and keeps looking at him. Finally, she says, “Looks like I was wrong. Angelica and her husband seem to be determined to make it work. They are going to college together. There's word that she's pregnant again, but it's not reliable. We're about as far from getting you a divorce as we've ever been.”

“Oh,” Blaine says.

She's still looking at him. “But that's actually good news for you,” she says.

“How so?” he asks.

“Because you don't really want to get a divorce, do you?”

He's silent. Then he shrugs, smiling a little. “I'm in no hurry.”

“Thought so.”

He shrugs again. This time, he isn't smiling. “It doesn't matter. He's gone. He's not coming back.”

“Why not?” Jan asks. She still seems silently amused, though not without compassion.

“He's doing what he wants. He shouldn't come back, there's nothing for him here.”

“That's what you say.”

“What do you mean?”

She takes a sip of her coffee. “Tell me. Does he love you back?”

Blaine thinks about it. Not for the first time, obviously, though he's never allowed himself to really think about it. He thinks of Kurt always having his back, of painkillers on the night stand though Kurt must have been just as hung over. He thinks of crying at night and of the way Kurt held him in bed. He thinks of the way Kurt looked when they said goodbye.

“It's a possibility,” he finally says.

“Does he know you're in love with him?”

He thinks about telling her that he never said he's in love with Kurt, but he knows it's no use. It's all over his face, he has lost his guard. So he just shakes his head.

“And do you think he's happy there in New York, possibly pining for you and not even knowing you return his feelings?”

Blaine shrugs. He has a feeling he's done something wrong, that Jan is about to show him and possibly scold him for it, but he can't see what. He's ignored his own feelings so that Kurt can be happy, how can that be wrong?

“He will be,” he says.

And there it comes.

“How is that your decision? Why are you the one deciding what will make Kurt happy?”

“I didn't make him leave, Jan! I just let him go when he wanted to.”

“Because you didn't give him a reason to stay!” She sighs and then continues more calmly. “Look, I've been through all of that. I did it with Liz, I even did it with your grandpa. The not talking, the making assumptions, the not reading signs correctly. Everyone does it, and it's not your fault alone. He could have said something too, could have asked about your feelings, could have asked what you really wanted. What do you really want?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you could have whatever you wanted, if you could be really selfish, what would you wish for?”

The answer to that question is easy, but Blaine is still reluctant to answer. It's hard to speak of what he'll never get.

“I'd want for him to come back. I'd want to be with him.”

“And maybe he wants the same.”

“You don't know that.”

She rolls her eyes at him. He deserves it, he concedes, for sounding like a petulant child. But her voice is kind when she speaks. “Of course I don't know that. And I get that should you go to him, and tell him what you feel, and maybe ask him to come back or try to find some way to make it work, you risk that...he doesn't choose you. It's scary, I get it. In the end, the only question is whether you think it's worth it.”

“I just don't see a way it could work. I can't go there and ask him to come back with me, to leave behind a promising career and come back to a provincial arts institute.”

She laughs at him. “Don't sell yourself short. I know you think more of your work than that. And if you don't see a way for you to be together, maybe he'll see one.” She looks at him in that scary way again. “He deserves a choice.”

He stands up. “I have made mine.”

 

Then he goes home and cries. What she said made sense, he thinks, but....he's not really able to rationally ponder everything. His feelings get in the way too much. How can he decide what's right for them, right for Kurt, when his heart is basically boarding a plane to New York right now? So he buries his face in sheets that don't smell of Kurt but at least of the laundry detergent that Kurt bought. He's reminded of when he cried for Sebastian on the hotel bed in Las Vegas, with Kurt awkwardly rubbing his back. At least, this time he's crying for somebody worth crying for. It doesn't change the fact that he's apparently still completely unable to successfully handle a love life.

 

When he returns to work, he hides in his office as much as he can. He still has no idea what to do, so he buries himself in work, of which there is, as always, more than enough. The rehearsals to Grease are going well, even though to be honest Blaine hasn't gone about them with much enthusiasm. But the kids are eager and disciplined. Kurt has trained them well, and at this point, they don't need much more than a space to rehearse.

For a wonder, there have been no more comments about casting Unique, and there also has been no backlash from the duet Kurt and he did at the concert. At the foundation, all is well.

But there is no hiding from his feelings, and also not from Santana, who barges into his office without knocking, with even more vehemence than usual.

“What have you done with Lady Hummel?” she accuses, startling him so that some of his paperwork scatters to the floor.

“You shouldn't call him that, Santana,” he chides, lowering himself to his knees so he can pick up the papers.

“Coming from me, it's a compliment,” she says, then sits down in his chair so he has nowhere to go after he stands up.

“What do you mean what did I do to him?”

She takes a slow spin in his chair. Only a cat on her lap is missing to make her look like she's planning world domination. “The kids all have tumblr, you know. And there are bootlegs of his concerts, of course, and the kids have been watching them because, you know, he was their teacher. And they are worried about him. Someone very....diligent has put together a video. I sent you a link. Go home and watch it.”

“I can't just go home, it's the middle of the day.”

“I'll take care of everything. That's what you hired me for, after all.”

“You know, I can't really remember doing that,” Blaine says, smiling, packing his things. He knows when he's beaten. “I think you just -”

“I just showed up one day, and since then, everything's been awesome.”

 

It's a compilation of songs from Kurt's concerts. Blaine watches them, mesmerized, with tears in his eyes that for once have less to do with this being the man he loves, but more with how breathtakingly beautiful he sings. He watches three or four times, though he fast forwards the third song, _I Know Him So Well_ , after the second time because it's a duet with a guy named Elliott Gilbert, who is gorgeous and a great singer, and whose name Blaine reluctantly remembers as one of the guys Kurt had had an arrangement with. Then he remembers that there was supposed to be a kind of secret message, and he pays more attention to the songs.

It takes six or so more viewings until he realizes it.

_Back for Good. Someone Like You. Against All Odds. Yesterday. I Don't Know How to Love Him._

Torch songs.

The videos are from different concerts, no more than one or two songs are from the same, and he doesn't really see how anyone who doesn't know their situation could make something out of one or two sentimental songs per concert, but....But.

Kurt is singing torch songs. Kurt is singing songs about unrequited or lost love at his concerts, after he has left, after Blaine has let him go with no protest at all.

Coincidence? Does it matter? Jan's words come back to him, and suddenly, the question if they can make it work isn't so important anymore, and neither is the thought that he shouldn't burden Kurt with his feelings. He just doesn't want Kurt to wonder anymore. Kurt shouldn't be singing Adele—or well, he should, because he sounds great—but he shouldn't be applying the lyrics to himself.

Kurt deserves to know, and so does he.

Without a second thought, he packs a few things and writes a text to Santana.

_Going to New York._

 


	20. Chapter 20

He's running frantically around the apartment, trying to plan what he needs to pack and pack at the same time, when the doorbell rings. With an exasperated sigh, he lets the things he's carrying drop to the floor and goes to open the door, taking a surprised step backwards when he sees his mom.

“Mom? What are you doing here?”

She's dressed uncommonly casual, in jeans and a sweater, and has a small smile on her face. Still, he's wary. Their last encounters haven't really been without conflict, and he can't think of when she's last been to his apartment.

“Can I come in?” she asks.

He opens the door wider and makes an inviting gesture.

“Sorry for the mess,” he says. “I'm on my way to New York to see Kurt.”

She sits down a free spot on the couch. “You must miss him.”

He looks at her, but she's fiddling with the seam of her sweater. “I do, yes.”

“Your place looks nice,” she says, looking around.

“Thanks. Kurt did most of it.”

“It looks nice,” she repeats, then visibly makes a decision. “I'm sorry,” she says. “About the way I've been to you, and him. It wasn't right. And I...I think I was wrong about him.”

“What? How?”

“When you first started seeing Sebastian, I had a hard time with it because suddenly, you weren't my little boy anymore.“ She laughs a little. “Not that I hadn't wished before, many times, that you would finally grow up. But when you did...you fell for him so hard and so fast it took me some time to realize that you hadn't changed all that much. Still so polite. Still so eager to put other people's needs before your own. I never saw that as something bad.”

She looks up and smiles at him. He doesn't smile back. He still doesn't know what this is about.

“When Kurt came along,” she continues, “you did change. It started already with the email you sent me, telling me of your marriage. It was so...so matter-of-fact. Still polite, but like...like I couldn't change anything about it if I wanted to.” She pauses, and laughs. “Which of course I couldn't. I'm rambling, but do you see what I mean? With Kurt, you changed. You stood up for him, and you stood up for yourself. You rarely ever did that before, and...well. I didn't like it, at first. It took time for me to see that before, you had let me, or Sebastian, bully you into almost everything, and that that wasn't a good thing.”

She drags her hands over her face, and when she takes them away, Blaine can see she's crying. “I hardly know what I'm saying,” she says. “I won't apologize for the past, because it wouldn't change anything and also because no matter what, I only always did what I thought best for you. But I apologize for the way I treated Kurt, and for everything I did that might have...make you doubt. He's good for you. I might not like when you stand up to me, but I know that it's good.”

He hugs her, unable to see her cry, and aware of what that has cost her. She's nothing if not proud, his mom. He holds her and pats her back for a while, and doesn't tell her that she has never managed to make him doubt his relationship with Kurt. He also doesn't tell her that it was hardly necessary, because he has those doubts all by himself.

Then he says, kindly, “Mom, can you go? I really need to go to New York.”

As he opens the door for her, he notices a box of expensive chocolates with a card on top of it sitting on the doormat in the hallway. He absentmindedly waves goodbye to his mom and reads the card before he has even closed the door.

_We hope that your husband's continued absence doesn't put a burden on your marriage. With wishes for a speedy reunion, sincerely, the Anderson family._

“We haven't heard from you in a while,” he says to the card, and laughs. For once, he shares the same wish.

The chocolates, he decides, he will give to Kurt. And apart from that—he has his mother's blessing. What can go wrong now?

 

Uncertainty, as it does, sets in as soon as he climbs out of the cab that has taken him to the airport. He can't just leave like that, what was he thinking? The foundation needs him, he has told nobody except Santana and his mom where he's going...and Santana will wonder why he has to go to New York so suddenly. She thinks that Kurt sings these songs because there has been a fight, or maybe that Kurt just misses him a lot—not that Blaine flies to New York to declare himself like some fool in a rom com. And what will Kurt think if he just shows up at his place. Kurt doesn't even know Blaine knows where he lives. And it's the middle of the week, Blaine doesn't know Kurt's schedule at all...

He nearly calls the cab back to take him home, but then catches himself. If he doesn't go now, he won't go at all, and if he doesn't go at all, then he'll always wonder what if.

In line for check-in, he looks at Broadway news or the first time in weeks, and after a few minutes finds out that there's no concert today, that in fact, Kurt should be home by the time Blaine arrives in New York. If he doesn't have other plans, of course—which he probably has, probably with Elliott or what's his name, the one with the hair and the voice...

The worst that can happen, he tells himself, is that he makes a complete fool of himself. This is something he has done before, a lot, and he knows that this time, at least, he can go home and lick his wounds in peace afterwards. For some time anyway, until the looks and the questions start and everyone will know what's wrong and he'll lose his husband and his inheritance and the foundation...

He takes a few deep breaths to stave off the impending panic, and resolutely tells himself to calm down. They can make it work, they have until now, and even if Kurt doesn't love him, they can still...There must be a way to get a divorce, Nonna will find a way, and for now, him going to New York to see his husband should appease the Anderson Mob.

Everything will be fine.

He writes a text to Kurt, telling him that he's on his way and when approximately he will arrive, and the turns off his phone even though it isn't necessary yet, because he doesn't want to see if and what Kurt will answer. He's a coward like that.

 

It's half past nine p.m. when the cab stops in front of Kurt's building. Blaine pays absentmindedly and looks up the building, trying to imagine what the apartment will look like and how much Kurt must have hated living with him all these months. The house isn't too fancy, but Blaine can see it has a foyer and a doorman. No just walking up the stairs; he will have to be announced, and wait for approval to go up.

Well. It's certainly too late to turn back now.

He approaches the desk with a smile that, he knows, looks friendly and genuine and shows nothing of what is going on inside him.

“Hi,” he says. “Um, my name is Blaine -”

“Anderson-Hummel,” the doorman interrupts with a smile. "You can go right up. Mr Anderson-Hummel approved you right when he returned to New York. I'm happy to meet you, sir.”

Blaine thanks him and smiles and turns to the stairs, clutching his small bag. Kurt is using his married name? Kurt has talked about him, enough that the doorman knew who he was?

His heart flutters madly as he makes his way up the stairs. Far too soon, he reaches Kurt's door, and he takes a deep breath and knocks, not at all sure what this reunion will mean for him, for them.

 

Kurt is on the phone when he opens the door, but he smiles at Blaine, that genuine, joyful smile that starts in his eyes and lights up his whole face. Blaine loves that smile. It's so much rarer than the other Kurt smile that is small and rather cautious, or else so fake that no one would even think Kurt had meant it to fool anyone.

He feels himself smile in return, and then Kurt is hugging him and dragging him into the apartment, and then, after a look into his eyes, kisses him full on the mouth. Then he goes back to his phone call, which sounds like it has been going on for a while and is not a particularly pleasant conversation.

“Yes, Sydney, I know. You've told me at least three...Yes. No, not her, She was hell to work with. Yes. No, she's not available. Yes. Yes, I like that thought. He's here, in fact, he just walked in. Yes. Hold on.”

He takes the phone down and says, “Blaine, I didn't mean to bring that up quite so soon, but my producer's on the phone, and apparently I am in urgent need for a duet partner. Apparently, the duets are the best part of my shows, and if I don't have a partner, nobody will come to see me anymore.” He rolls his eyes and grins. “Sydney had the idea to ask you, and I like it. Can you stay a week or so and sing with me? Two concerts? Please?”

Blaine shrugs. “Okay.”

He's not even here two minutes, hasn't even gotten rid of his jacket, and feels slightly blindsided, but he's not going to turn down an opportunity to sing with Kurt. Or stay with him for a week.

He looks around while Kurt finishes his phone call, getting rid of his jacket and his bag, and comes to the conclusion that Kurt must have hated living with him very much. His apartment is not overly spacious, but still bigger than Blaine's, and is clean, bright and tastefully furnished in a way that makes it look uncluttered but still lived-in. Blaine likes it a lot, and hopes Kurt will let him stay here with him for the week.

He is hugged from behind, and Kurt says, “Thank you. And not only for agreeing to sing with me. I'm really glad you're here.”

“Really?” Blaine turns to look at Kurt. “I mean, I didn't even tell you I was coming...I hope I'm not inconveniencing you too much.”

Kurt smiles, softly and a little sad. “You're really not.”

“I was hoping...,” Blaine says. “There are things I didn't tell you...”

“I know,” Kurt interrupts. “Me too. I know we have to talk, but...can we do this week just pretending? Just doing the concerts and...other things? And talk at the end of it?”

“Okay,” Blaine agrees. He's relieved and anxious at once. “As long as you promise we will talk.”

“We will,” Kurt says. Then he grins. “There's one thing left to talk about, though: Do you want to sleep in the spare room or with me in the bedroom?”

Blaine looks at him. Kurt's smile looks impish and promising, and Blaine remembers the kiss and that Kurt still hasn't let go of him. He feels himself blush.

“Is that a serious question?” he asks. “The spare room or...”

“Or the bedroom.” Kurt says. “With all its implications.”

“Oh,” Blaine says, blushing even more. “The bedroom, please.”


	21. Chapter 21

They spend the next day mostly in bed. Blaine rediscovers Kurt's body: everything seems more intense now with the unspoken, but always thought 'I love you' in his mind. He lets himself be rediscovered also, and then, there's pain along with the joy, because this might not last, probably won't last. He embraces it during and firmly pushes it away after, for this week, they are pretending. A pretend week in their pretend marriage, though for Blaine at least, the marriage hasn't been pretend in a long time.

They spend a ridiculous amount of time just kissing. Blaine feels like he could live alone on Kurt's tongue in his mouth, being held, feeling safe and loved...but that thought bears sadness, threatens to destroy the illusion they're working so hard to keep up. One week where everything is like it should be, where there's nothing to worry about except the upcoming concerts (and when Blaine stops to think long enough, he feels like that is enough—he hasn't forgotten his stage fright).

They don't reach five times in a single night, but they manage five times in a night and a day. Blaine is tired and sore and happy and sad; still, he'd stay this way forever if he could. There isn't anything they have to do. The concert is far enough away they don't have to rehearse just yet, though they should. But they spend a little time in bed talking song ideas and trying out harmonies, and that totally counts. (Although, to be honest, they're mostly messing around. The songs they suggest are completely absurd, and they sing _The Lumberjack Song_ , lying in bed and almost peeing themselves laughing.)

They finally rise in the evening, if only to move on the couch. But Kurt draws the line at pizza in bed, and someone has to open the door for the delivery boy, anyway. They talk while they eat, about the concerts and the foundation and how the kids are doing at _Grease_. They don't have the conversation Blaine simultaneously longs for and dreads, because they are _pretending_. It would be awkward, he has to concede, if they were to talk about their feelings now and come to the conclusion they don't have a future together, after having sex for two days straight and being in the process of planning concerts together.

He's happy to be pretending. He really is. He's just not very good at it, at the moment, in his own head at least.

But he's here with Kurt, and he's going to go to sleep in Kurt's arms tonight and every night this week if everything goes well, and who knows? Maybe he'll have an epiphany about how to make this work.

 

The next morning, they take a cab to Kurt's practice room, where a taciturn piano player named Brad waits to rehearse their songs with them. He'll have to wait a little longer though, as they haven't managed to agree on songs to sing on the way here. And the songs they brainstormed in bed were mostly...well, songs they brainstormed in bed, silly songs, or songs that are way too explicit, suggestions that made them laugh but are hardly songs they could really sing.

“What can we sing?” Blaine asks. “Broadway, or...?”

Kurt shakes his head. “We can sing mostly anything. Just not _The Internet is for Porn_. Family-friendly, sort of, but we can get as gay as we like.”

“I'm already as gay as I like.”

Kurt laughs, shaking his head. “No, I mean the songs. I sang _I Know Him so Well_ with Elliott -”

Blaine clears his throat. “Yes, I—I saw that.” He looks away.

“Blaine, are you jealous?”

Blaine is about to deny that, then decides to be honest. Sort of.

“I can't talk about that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wouldn't be pretending.”

 

They end up practicing a couple of songs, _Daydream Believer, Just Can't Get Enough, You Make Me Feel So Young_. In a moment of thoughtlessness, Blaine suggests _Come What May_ , which Kurt declines vehemently. Blaine doesn't ask why. He has a feeling it would go into Not Pretending Anymore for Kurt. With perhaps equal thoughtlessness, Kurt suggests _Got To Get You Into My Life_. And Blaine agrees. Because he is stupidly, desperately hoping.

Despite everything, they have fun, a lot, except for fleeting moments where feelings won't be suppressed anymore and Blaine's throat closes up with the fervent wish that all of this be real. Not just—well. Pretending.

They do sound great together, though, and Blaine has high hopes for their concerts if he can get over his stage fright.

 

In the end, they have enough songs that Blaine can sing two duets with Kurt per concert, plus maybe an encore.

They'll have to practice more the next few days until the first concert on Saturday, but both of them are confident that it'll work out great.

They wander about New York for the rest of the day, each showing the other their favorite spots. They have dinner in a restaurant, and it feels like a date, but easy and familiar. A date of a long-time couple. And it's getting harder and harder for Blaine to keep his mouth shut, to not just blurt out 'I love you' in the middle of dessert or when they walk home, their joined hands in the pocket of Kurt's coat to keep them warm.

To distract himself and also because he honestly worries, he has a lengthy phone call with Santana, in which he resolutely refuses to say anything about Kurt or himself, but asks about the foundation and the play. He feels horribly guilty for abandoning the kids only weeks after Kurt had left, but Santana assures him they are coping, there's no separation anxiety (“at least not on their side,” she adds mockingly), and rehearsals are going great.

They have set a date for the premiere of _Grease_. Next Friday. The second concert is on Tuesday, which means it's easy to get home in time for the performance. It also means there is no time to extend his stay, which he may have dreamed of. Stay here. Never talk. Just keep pretending. He knows that it doesn't work that way. He can hardly keep pretending now, he itches to talk even though he is terrified. So this is a good thing. Right? Get it over with, make a decision, and then return to Westerville. One way or another.

He tells Kurt about _Grease_ , and Kurt surprises him and asks,

“Can I come?”

Blaine looks at him and Kurt shrugs. “Ours is the last concert for a while. I could...I'd like...Never mind.”

Yes, Blaine wants to say. It's Kurt's play, after all. He has made every major decision about casting and staging and costumes, and the kids miss him. He should be there. But,

“I want you to,” he says. “But I think we should wait how our talk goes and decide then.”

It's the first time either of them have acknowledged their 'talk' since they decided not to talk.

“Or we could pretend a little longer,” Kurt says, looking hopeful.

Blaine shakes his head. “I can't. I'm hardly able to do this now. I...We've never even said what we have to talk about but I think...I think you were right when you asked to do it after the concerts. because if...if we did it before and it went wrong...”

“It could be hard to work together,” Kurt says softly.

“Right. So, I won't say anything now, but I can't...I can't...” For some reason, Blaine is close to tears, and he stops talking when he can hear it in his voice.

“I understand, “Kurt says, and then he kisses Blaine, and though it starts comforting it soon turns something else, and the rest of the night, Blaine is distracted from the words that threaten to spill out in the nicest way possible.

 

Their week of pretending makes Blaine happy, but also leaves him raw and vulnerable inside in a way he hadn't anticipated. He knows, when he's allowed to talk, he'll talk with nothing held back. There's nothing there anymore that could work as a filter, that could make him be cautious, because all his energy goes into not talking now.

As it does, time passes, and much too quickly. Their first concert has come and gone, and now Blaine is standing backstage at their second concert, listening to Kurt sing and waiting until he is called on stage. His stage fright has gone down enough that he can just enjoy the parts of the concert where he isn't singing, once again mesmerized by Kurt's voice and his presence so much only his professionalism saves him from kissing him right there on stage, and maybe declaring himself after all.

Then, Kurt stops singing and starts talking, telling a story that Blaine knows will have tumblr go crazy all over again.

“Once upon a time, not so long ago, I was in Las Vegas, doing much the same as I'm doing right this moment. After the show, a man came to me who wanted me to come to his foundation, the Warbler Foundation for the arts in Westerville, and make a speech or teach a class, whatever I'd like. I told him I'd think about it, and proceeded to...not do that, although I did think about the man himself, in particular...a part of his body I couldn't help but notice.”

The audience laughs, and so does Blaine. He's a little stunned, though. Kurt hasn't told this story at the last concert, just announced him when it was his time to come up.

“I saw him again a little later,” Kurt continues, “at the bar, holding his phone in his hand and looking at it as if he couldn't believe it was there. We started talking, and then we started drinking, and drinking some more, and found out we liked each other very much. And in the most reckless move of our lives—and you can probably guess what my dad had to say to me about that—we decided to get married right then and there.”

The audience claps and laughs, and Blaine can hear a few whistles. He gets ready, checking his bow tie and his hair in the small mirror backstage, because why would Kurt tell this story if it wasn't Blaine's time to come on stage?

“It worked better than you might expect,” Kurt says. “We still like each other very much, and the best part is, that tonight, he is here to sing with me! Please welcome my beloved husband, the amazingly talented Blaine Anderson-Hummel!”

_Beloved_?

Feeling slightly dazed, Blaine stumbles up to the stage.


	22. Chapter 22

Kurt launches directly into _Got To Get You Into My Life_ , and Blaine just goes with it, singing and dancing with Kurt while his mind runs in circles. He almost forgets the lyrics of the second verse because he can't concentrate, but he saves it so probably no one has noticed. And if they have—well, Kurt can't just say things like this and expect Blaine to be all professional about it.

 

Blaine clutches Kurt's hand as they walk home. He has declined dinner in a restaurant, has declined an invitation to go to a club with a few members of the orchestra, he just wants to go home. Kurt's home, of course, although he likes it very much there.

Still, he had imagined them sitting down together, maybe have dinner and a glass of wine, and then talk. Instead, he only waits until the door closes behind them to blurt out,

“I love you. I have no idea how this would work, but I love-”

He is interrupted rudely but rather pleasantly when Kurt kisses him, short but hard enough his head bumps against the door behind him. He doesn't mind, though, because Kurt says, breathlessly,

“I love you too. And I might have-”

This time Kurt can't end his sentence, because Blaine just can't but kiss him, longer now and thoroughly, clutching him like he'll never let him go. For the moment, it's all he needs; he still doesn't have an idea how they'll make this work, but for the moment, he just revels in the knowledge that Kurt loves him. He had hoped, he had even believed when he dared...but to hear it from Kurt's lips, the same lips he is now kissing with everything he's got...

“As I was saying,” Kurt says, grinning as Blaine pouts at the end of the kiss. He takes his hand and leads him to the couch. “As I was saying, I might have an idea how this could work.”

He gestures between them at “this”, and Blaine loves it. He loves that there is a “this” that would require that kind of gesture.

“You just have to listen, and have an open mind, okay?”

Blaine nods easily, but Kurt looks at him. “It's been weeks since I've gone. As far as I know you, you have spent them finding a thousand reasons why we would never work. I'm asking you to...put these away. I'm not saying everything will be perfect, I'm just saying I might have found a way to give us a realistic chance.”

At that, of course, all of these reasons pop into Blaine's head again. He doesn't particularly want a long-distance relationship, although now, if Kurt loves him, that might even be worth a try...but they would hardly have time for each other....but he can't give up the foundation and just be Kurt's plus-one...and neither does he want Kurt to give up his career. He simply has no idea. He sees them trying long-distance, and never being able to make time for each other, Blaine lost in projects as he knows he is wont to, Kurt's time and attention called away by his demanding career. He sees missed calls and visits that never happen, and. worst of all, one or both of them not even noticing because they'll be so used to being without each other.

But Kurt is still looking at him, and so he nods again, determined to listen. He wants this to work, after all, and if Kurt loves him...if Kurt loves him, now he knows that, it seems too much to give up.

“A few weeks ago,” Kurt starts, “my dad and Carole came to see one of the shows. They could stay for a few days, and they stayed here with me, and I expected...I was afraid they would ask where you were, why you weren't here with me. But they...they did ask after you, how you were, if you had been able to see the show yet, but...they didn't seem to think anything about you being in Westerville and me being here. And it made me think...a lot of spouses aren't together all the time. I don't know why I didn't think of that before.”

Blaine nods, hesitantly, with a slightly sinking heart. So it's to be long distance. He'll try, for Kurt, of course he will, but he's by no means certain it'll work. He couldn't even hold Sebastian when they were living together, how should he manage with Kurt when he's not even there?

“Now I know it's not ideal,” Kurt says. “And right after I had that thought, I found that I didn't particularly want to do that. I would, probably, if there was no other choice, but...I was miserable after I left. All these songs I sang...”

Blaine smiles. The songs are why he's here, after all. But there's another thing to consider. “I don't know if it would work. We're still not completely free from...'la famiglia'.”

He had given Kurt the chocolates the Anderson mob left, with an explanation. Kurt had laughed, and found creative ways to eat the chocolates that Blaine enjoyed very much, but they hadn't really talked about it.

“I know,” Kurt says. “I think we have won time, with you here and the concerts, but if you agree to what I thought of, it wouldn't even be an issue anymore. Not for the foreseeable future, anyway.”

Blaine nods. Kurt shifts on the couch, takes his hands. “I enjoy doing the concerts, you know that. But I can't do two concerts a week the whole year through, nobody would want to see them. And I figured I'd do concerts for a few months, and then plays the other time if I got roles, but...what if I didn't?”

“What do you mean?” Blaine asks. In his mind, he's holding his breath, though only figuratively because he doesn't want to turn all red and then suffocate.

“I miss teaching,” Kurt admits. “I miss the kids, and everything that's going on, and I really, really want to see the play. I know I only was there a short time, but everyone has made me feel welcome, and...like I belong. I like feeling like I'm making a difference. So I thought -” he hesitates, and would have drawn back his hands if Blaine hadn't held on to them. “I thought maybe I'd do concerts a few months, and the rest of the year, I'd come back to the foundation? If—if you'd have me?”

Before Blaine can answer, Kurt rambles on. “It could be good for the foundation, too, I think, if the reviews for the concerts keep being as good as they are, It could be...I mean people might -”

Kurt nervous? Quickly. Blaine interrupts with a smile that feels as happy as he's going to get. “Kurt. I would love that.”

Kurt turns to him, smiles. “You would?”

“Of course. It's way better than everything I came up with. I couldn't even imagine you'd be willing to do this, I could never ask you to -”

And apparently now it's his turn to ramble.

“You didn't ask,” Kurt says. “And believe me, it's no sacrifice. This way, I get the best of both worlds. I get to perform, have the applause, the limelight, and then I get to...share my experience, make a difference.” He grins. “Sleep in on weekends. And, best of all, I get to be with you.”

Blaine doesn't know who starts kissing whom now, but they spend a good time making out on the couch before they talk again. Blaine thinks he would like skipping the talking part altogether, maybe take things to the bedroom so they can celebrate the end to pretending and the start of their real relationship. He doesn't smile, his mouth is too busy kissing, but inside, he is smiling so wide he is about to split. He aches with happiness, and he keeps kissing Kurt until other things ache as well.

Still. Blaine is the first to talk again. “I'm gonna miss you when you're back in New York,” he says, pouting a little. He doesn't exactly know why he's saying this, it seems greedy and ungrateful somehow, but he can't help it: now that he's holding Kurt in his arms and knows it's real, he can't imagine not being able to do this, if only for a few months.

Kurt laughs. “Well, first, I'm coming back to Ohio with you. Assuming that's okay now we, you know, talked.”

“Of course,” Blaine says. “You should be there. Everyone will be so glad to see you.”

“And then,” Kurt says, “first of all, it's going to be some time until I'll be gone again, and if you really did miss me...well, you could come with me. Sing with me. Come here for a visit or for the whole time I'm here.”

“What about the foundation?”

“You know Santana's just waiting for you to leave so she can take over.”

Blaine laughs. “I'm not sure that's meant as an enticement or a warning.”

“You are the foundation, Blaine. Nobody could ever take it away from you. But for a few weeks, even a few months for a time...I'm sure they'll manage.”

Blaine nods, slightly reluctantly even though he knows Kurt is right.

“So now we've cleared that up,” Kurt says, “would you like to come to the bedroom with me so we can consummate our marriage?”

Blaine nods again, more eagerly this time, laughing because he's pretty sure they've consummated their marriage a long time ago.

As Kurt takes his hand to lead him to the bedroom, though, Blaine holds him back. He needs to say it again, and he needs to hear it again.

“I love you.”

Kurt smiles at him, all the love of the world shining from his eyes. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!  
> Thank you so much for all your kudos and comments, they mean the world to me!


End file.
